


Dating Tense

by FlyingWerecats



Category: Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Underfell, Comments appreciated, Freeform, I don't know what I'm doing, I'm Bad At Tagging, Like at least 20, Maybe put it to a vote?, Napstablook or Sans probably, No deaths if possible, No resets, Not sure who the Reader will end up with, P U N S, Pacifist Route, Reader Is Not Frisk, Reader is a total sweetheart, Reader is more of an oc, Reader is shy sometimes, Reader-Insert, So many characters want to date you, So many characters will like the Reader, Spoilers, Swearing, That I can't be bothered to name, True Pacifist Run, Underfell Pacifist Route, Will be long, ambiguously gendered reader, it's ridiculous, we'll see
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-08
Updated: 2018-01-08
Packaged: 2018-06-07 02:43:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 6
Words: 80,410
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6782167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FlyingWerecats/pseuds/FlyingWerecats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>All you want to do is go home. Why do all of these monsters want to kill you? Or maybe they want to kiss you. Hopefully not in that order.<br/>That's right, (Name). Flirt your way to safety.<br/>Underfell Pacifist Route, no deaths. Reader unintentionally seduces... everyone. How many unwanted suitors can we rack up in one fic? Let's find out!</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Your Best Nightmare

Your head hurts.  
When you look up, it takes a moment to register your surroundings. But you quickly notice that this is not, in fact, your bedroom, and you are not, in fact, in your own, cozy bed. No wonder you feel so sore. You sit up, rubbing at your elbows and knees. Nothing seems to be broken, and remarkably the only injuries you seem to have sustained are mild bruises and scrapes. You are in a dark cave, you can see that much, but no details are visible beyond the edges of the small patch of light that you are sitting in.  
You have no idea where you are.  
You have no idea how you got here.  
As your gaze drifts upwards towards the source of your spotlight, you realize that it is a long ways away and you should be dead.  
You shake your head in disbelief.  
_I didn’t... FALL from there... did I?_  
Fear settles into the pit of your stomach. That’s a long way up, and a lot further than you can climb. There are no footholds in the walls that you can see, if there are any walls. You could be in a tiny crypt or a massive tomb, for all you know, and you feel... vulnerable.  
You look down.  
You are lying on a bed of golden flowers, all of which seem a little crushed, but no worse for the wear. It looks strangely neat, but you figure that’s because they need this patch of light to grow. They... must have broken your fall. You aren’t sure how that’s possible, but you can think of no other explanation for how you’re still alive right now. Unless this is the afterlife, in which case it’s simultaneously nicer and duller than you were expecting. You guess this could be purgatory... that white light up there could be Heaven, or Valhalla, or something. Maybe the world of the living. And that darker shape your eyes are just beginning to pick up on... well, it isn’t moving, bless your poor beating heart, so it must not be a monster of some sort. You guess it looks kind of like... a doorway, or an exit. A tunnel? Maybe it leads to Hell.  
You flop back on the bed of petals for the moment, soaking in the faux sunlight. At least, that’s what you think it is... it’s too bright and too white, so unless you’re staring directly into the sun itself, something about it feels off to you. Honestly, it feels more like a strong sunlamp than anything else, but you suppose it’s enough. You aren’t quite ready to enter the dark just yet. You could get lost. You could never see this light again.  
Eventually, though, you know you have to move on. Hell or no Hell, you can’t just stay here forever, and that tunnel is your best bet to get... somewhere. So, pushing yourself up by shaking knees, you stumble towards the darkness and quickly became disoriented.  
It takes you a while, edging cautiously forward, eyes dazzled by the earlier light and utterly useless, groping at air in the hopes that your fingertips will find the opposite wall before your face.  
Well, your face doesn’t find anything, but your toe sure does.  
Cursing lightly, you feel your way around the edge of the tunnel and begin following it, feeling more secure until you run out and bumble your way into another wall a few feet away. You repeat the process, trailing a hand over that wall as you spot another patch of light up ahead. For the briefest moment, you think you’ve gotten turned around and headed back the way you came, but then you notice the lack of flowers in this one. Just pure, green grass. Admittedly, suspiciously neat and trim, but you’re much too relieved to care.  
A tiny bit of hope kindles in your breast. If this cave is perforated with holes, then maybe you won’t be lost in the dark. Maybe you can follow a trail of light all the way up and out to safety! It’s wishful thinking, but the thought fills you with... determination.  
It’s much easier to travel towards the light than away from it, and your path to this new patch is easier than any of your previous efforts in this place. Even though it’s only been a few minutes since you started, you miss the light and all you really want to do is sit down and enjoy it for a minute.  
But you can’t, because _holy fuck it’s a flower with a face where the hell did it come from?!_  
There’s no real warning before it pops up from beneath the grass, preceded by the faintest of sounds that you only notice in retrospect. Too faint to be a rumble, you suppose. More of a reverberation and a tiny _pop._  
It looks exactly like the flowers you just saw, only this one is larger, more battered and has a _goddamn face._ It looks... terrified. Its smile is wider than it should be, and its stem tilts in a cowering pose. It seems to be trying to appear friendly, despite the nervous shifting of its eyes.  
“H-howdy! I’m... Flowey the Flower!”  
You were kidding when you thought this was Hell. Now you’re not so sure.  
The longer you stand there staring, reassuring yourself that you’ve seen way worse on many a movie screen, the more nervous he gets. His face looks... substantially scarier for a moment, or maybe it’s a trick of the light. Then it’s gone, and you wonder if you imagined it. You blink, refocusing on his expression. You realize you dwarf him in size. No wonder he’s scared!  
“You’re... new to the Underground, aren’tcha?”  
You nod quickly, snapping out of your thoughts and trying your hardest not to scare him anymore. Unfortunately, the sudden movement makes him wince. You start to reach out, but... you only manage to startle him worse. You decide to keep still and listen. That’s non-threatening, right?  
“Golly, y-you must be, s-so confused! S-someone ought to teach you how things work around here! I guess, little old me will have to do!”  
You smile.  
“That would be great, thanks! Can you help me get to the surface? And, uh... if you don’t mind me asking, uh... what... what, are you? I-I mean, if that’s not to, I mean, personal, I guess? Ahh...”  
His expression falters. If anything he seems even more anxious. Great. Way to be non-threatening, (Name).  
“S-sure!” He squeaks. “But first... l-let me show you something, okay?”  
There is a tugging sensation in your chest, and you look down to see _your goddamn heart emerge what the actual fuck._  
“D-don’t scream!” He yelps, eyes wide. He even leans forward a bit in his panic, and you get your first good look at him with petals splayed out. It’s enough to make you swallow your own fear, reducing your reaction to a choked squeak.  
He’s even more battered than you thought.  
His petals are covered with dark blotches and small tears and rips decorate the edges. His leaves are in a similar condition. Even his stem looks pinched, leaving faint green bruises and cuts that were all but invisible in the shade beneath his head. Now that he’s angled differently, you can see just how hurt he really is. In all honesty, the flowers you landed on looked better.  
The poor dear. Who could have done that to him...?  
You’re quickly distracted by the _glowing heart floating in front of your face._  
_T-that... that came out of my body... Is that my...?_  
“Ah... S-see that thing, hovering between us just now? That’s...”  
“ _See_ it?! _See_ it, that’s my...!”  
“Y-yes, well!” His leaves flex in annoyance. “T-that’s your SOUL, so...”  
_“My... my soul...?” Oh god._  
“Relax! It doesn’t hurt, right?”  
_“Doesn’t hurt?! This is some straight up-“_  
“Human, please!” He snaps. He takes a deep breath while you continue to panic, reaching out to the _thing_ floating in front of you. Maybe... maybe you can push it back in...?  
“...Yes, that thing is your SOUL, the very culmination of your being. When you get into a battle with a monster...”  
“M-monster?!”  
He ignores you.  
“...Then what they will actually be attacking is your SOUL, so you need to be ready. Monsters will attack you by...”  
“ _Wait wait wait_ I’m sorry, did you say _monsters?_ I’m going to get attacked by _monsters?!”_  
He almost looks offended.  
“Well, you _did_ ask what I was, didn’t you?”  
“You’re a monster.”  
“Yes.”  
_“You’re a goddamn flower monster.”_  
“...Yes?” He’s shifting nervously back and forth, bouncing on his stalk like a human might bounce on the ball of their feet. “...Look, we really need to...”  
_“I’m being attacked by a goddamn flower holy shit...”_  
“Look, I’m trying to help you so shut up and listen to me, alright?!”  
Your eyes widen. Even he looks surprised at the outburst. You swallow hard.  
“...Are you... are you done? Can we get on with this?”  
You nod.  
“Alright, well... Monsters are made out of magic, _yes magic is real don’t even start._ ” You shut your mouth. “...So when they attack you, they’re going to use that magic to do it, alright? But it’s okay! Because your soul can get STRONGER if you collect LV!”  
“El... vee?”  
“Yes! It stands for LOVE! Every monster in the Underground has lots of it, so you’re going to need lots of it, too, if you want to survive! _You want to survive, don’t you?_ Lucky for you, I’ve got just the thing!”  
Glowing white pellets appear in the air in front of you. You look at Flowey.  
He’s... sweating?  
_How can a flower even do that?_  
_Magic, probably._  
“S-see these pellets? These are _Friendliness Pellets._ This is how monsters share their LOVE with each other! So, if you want to make it back to the surface, you’re going to have to move around and collect as many as you can, alright?”  
Wait... something doesn’t feel right about this...  
“Are you ready, human? Let’s start, okay?”  
This isn’t adding up...  
The pellets start to move, spinning through the air towards you. You... don’t like the look of them.  
You step aside. You don’t even think about it, you just do, and suddenly your heart... _soul?_... is moving with you. You don’t move much, but you end up several feet from where you started.  
_Wow, this thing is really buoyant, isn’t it?_  
Panic flashes on Flowey’s face. Then he grimaces.  
“H-heheh... You missed! You want to move _towards_ the pellets! Let’s try again, alright?”  
“No.”  
“Wh... Don’t you, trust me? It’s me, Flowey! Your _very best friend!”_  
_Okay that was creepy as fuck you’re getting the HELL outta here._  
Except... you can’t. Because as soon as you start to move, a ring of pellets... no... _bullets_ surrounds you. You turn back to Flowey. His face is twisted up into the most terrifying visage you’ve ever seen.  
_He’s the fucking devil._  
Somehow, your fear fades to a dull, numb throb at the back of your mind. You hold his gaze as steadily and as calmly as you can, and speak.  
“Are you going to kill me?”  
And just like that, the scary face is gone. He looks torn, and his petals are... trembling? He seems to be debating something in his head. He slumps.  
“I... I’m sorry...” He whispers. “I don’t have a choice. You...”  
He looks up.  
“You’re the last one. You’re... the last soul they need. I can’t... I can’t let them... I can’t let you... please... don’t make this harder than it has to be...”  
There are tears in his eyes as the ring starts to constrict. He’s muttering, more to himself than to you, as you edge your way into the center of the shrinking circle, heart beginning to pound. You’re not sure what will happen to you if those things touch your soul, but you think you know enough to be sure it won’t be good.  
“Please... Chara... I’m sorry...”  
“Who’s Chara?”  
His head snaps up as soon as the name leaves your lips. You try to ignore the bullets coming closer; they’re awfully slow, and seem to be getting slower. He seems... reluctant to fight. Maybe you can use that.  
_That’s right, (Name). Talk your way out of this._  
“Is Chara a friend of yours?” He freezes.  
“...”  
“...Can I meet them?”  
“..........”  
“I’d like to meet your friends, if that’s alright with you! I never had many friends on the surface, a-and I’ve always sorta loved monsters, so... it’d be really nice to, make some new friends, while I’m down here!”  
“.............................”  
“I mean, I might be down here for a while, right? If there are other monsters around, and they... if they aren’t very friendly, then... it might take me awhile to get past them all, and I don’t know how far away the exit is, if there is one... To be honest, home really isn’t all that great, but... it’s all I have, you know? It’s not much, but it’s enough. And I _really_ gotta get back. I mean, who’s gonna pay my rent, right?” You smile shakily.  
“...Please stop.”  
The bullets are close. Too close. You suck in your stomach, trying to take up less space. But just before they can touch you... they stop.  
“......................................................”  
They disappear. You hesitantly release the breath you were holding.  
He’s shaking horribly, and tears drip from his downturned face.  
“I’m sorry, I’m sorry, I couldn’t do it, I’m so sorry, Chara, Chara, I’m so sorry, I’m _so, so sorry, I failed you, I...”_  
Your soul pulls back into your chest, pulsing red inside of you before it disappears, filling you with an odd feeling of... fullness? You’re not sure what to call it, but you guess this means the danger has passed now. You exhale in relief, and kneel carefully in front of the weeping flower. You know he’s going to flinch horribly when you touch him, but...  
You pat Flowey on the head.  
He looks up.  
“Hey,” you whisper as softly as you can. “It’s alright. Whatever you’re going through, it’s alright.”  
You carefully stroke his petals with the backs of your knuckles, and he turns his face from you again. Both of you are silent. You stay that way for quite a while. Then his leaves twitch, and curl into little fists. He pulls away from you, and disappears underground. You open your mouth to call him, but he’s already popped back up again, just out of your reach. He glares at you, though the effect is ruined by the tear streaks on his face. You notice a doorway just behind him that you didn’t see before, and wonder how you could have possibly missed that. It’s a deep, dark purple, but it’s still large and rather noticeable, with a strange symbol carved over the door.  
“Idiot.”  
Your smile falters.  
“Excuse me?”  
“Do you really think this is a **victory** for you?” He laughs. You shudder. “I was going to give you a quick death. A **clean** death. You think **they** would be so kind?” He wilts. “Your kindness is going to get you killed.”  
“But...”  
“You really are stupid, aren’t you?” He sneers. “There is no room for kindness in the Underground. In this world, it’s **k i l l o r b e k i l l e d.** ”  
He has awfully sharp teeth for a flower, doesn’t he?  
You grin sheepishly at him and spread out your hands helplessly.  
“Then I guess I’ll just have to kill ‘em with kindness, won’t I!”  
“...........”  
He regards your stupidity speechlessly, and growls.  
“Alright, look.” His tone is harsh, but you perk up nonetheless. “That,” he gestures at the doorway, “is the entrance to the Ruins. From there, you should be able to access the rest of the Underground. The exit is on the other side. But,” he cuts you off with a warning glare. “It’s full of monsters, and the caretaker of the Ruins is especially powerful. Believe me, you _don’t_ want to run into her. She checks around here for fallen humans twice a day, so you’d better get going.”  
You smile.  
“Thanks.”  
“The exit to the Ruins is in the caretaker’s house. Try to sneak in while she’s doing her rounds, and make your way downstairs.” He sighs. “Just... try not to fail _too_ miserably, okay?”  
And with that, he’s gone. You aren’t terribly comfortable being here by yourself, but now you know better than to stand around here all day. It sounds like this caretaker has already been by here once already, so if you hurry, maybe... Of course, it’d help if someone had remembered to _give you directions,_ but... baby steps.  
You step carefully away from the light, and wait for your eyes to adjust this time. It’s not much, but it’s lighter here, and you can actually make out the symbol atop the door with ease by the time you reach it. Triangles and wings? Must be a symbolic thing.  
The stone of the pillars supporting the arch over the doorway are cold to the touch, and a little gritty. You’re not sure what you were expecting, but it certainly doesn’t make you feel any better. Squinting past it doesn’t reveal much, but there’s obviously light up ahead.  
You take a deep breath, and step through.  
The tunnel is shorter than you think, and you quickly find yourself stepping out into your first real _room._ You call it that, because there are actual, discernible brick walls here and enough light to see by, though it’s still rather gloomy. In front of you is your first path, a shade lighter from the stone it was carved from, leading up to what looks like... A leaf-embroidered square? It seems lower-set than the stone around it, so perhaps they’ve become trapped between the edges where they meet with the rest of the floor. You could believe that, if they weren’t placed quite so neatly. You can’t help but find it suspicious. There’s a dark patch of stone in the center, a perfect circle, and you stoop for the nearest, largest stone you can find. You heave it experimentally at the circle. It disappears.  
_Okay. There are traps here. Trap noted._  
There’s a gleam nestled in front of a patch of dark, crimson leaves which someone has obviously swept out of the walkway. (Although a few stray leaves are lying around.) You carefully edge around the square, (you have no idea if the rest of it is safe or not, and you aren’t taking chances,) and crouch down in front of it. It’s set pretty low, about to your knees, if a little lower. It looks like... a star?  
You try to touch it. You can’t. But there’s a warmth emanating from it, and it feels nice just to warm yourself in front of it. You feel energized somehow, and from this position, looking up, the Ruins loom above you. It’s intimidating, but you feel... determined?  
You’re not sure why.  
You can’t stop glancing curiously at the glimmer as you step away, but you have to keep moving. There are two staircases leading up to another door, this one without pillars and flanked by windows and two thick mats of vine. You plod up to them, cursing all the way. Sure, the stairs are pretty, but they’re a pain to climb. Above the door is a plaque, but it’s faded and too far up to make out much more than the word “Home.”  
You would smile, if Flowey’s warning wasn’t still fresh in your mind. As it is, the eerie silence is starting to get to you. Your footsteps sound so loud here in the stillness, and you half expect something to pop out of the shadows any second now. Trying to shake the thoughts, you wonder how these leaves got here with no tree in sight.  
That’s when you jolt. The stray leaves... someone’s been here. Very, _very_ recently.  
You hurry through the new door with much less deliberation.  
Inside is a much smaller room, with a closed purple door with that same symbol on it... And no door handle. _Great._ Beside it is a plaque, and on its other side is a lever, placed in front of some raised platforms. Two on a path, and four that are not. _This looks like... something from a video game. A puzzle?_  
_Okay! I can handle puzzles. Let’s do this!_  
You briefly consider pushing on the door, just in case it really is that easy. Nah. You opt for the fun option!  
_Only the fearless may proceed. Brave ones, foolish ones. Both walk not the middle road._  
...Oh.  
You try to shrug off your disappointment, and step on all of the platforms except for the ones in the middle. You pull the lever. Sure enough, the door opens.  
_Well, it IS only the first room..._  
Stepping through reveals not one, but two signs! One atop a post near the path you find yourself on, and another on the wall. It’s pretty easy to see, even in this lighting, that the sign isn’t going to help you. Whatever it once said, it’s been scratched out and replaced with all sorts of rude comments and death threats. Seems the locals have been using it as a sort of bulletin board or forum.  
_Loox is da best!!! Most fearsome in the Ruins!_  
_Pffhaha, yeah right, ya 1-eyed freak!!_  
_Hey! Don’t pick on me! I’ll kill you!_  
_Whatcha gonna do, glare at me haha?_  
_“If looks could kill...” Hahaha!_  
_Stop it!! Or I’ll-_  
You cringe at what’s written next. The threat is... rather graphic, and involves a lot of detailed violence directed at the eyes. I mean, you’ve seen eye-gouging and shit in movies, but this... this is just _brutal._ Although, you suppose they _were_ picking on him...  
You read a few more, but most of it is absolute gibberish to you. “We are legion!!” “EAT OR BE EATEN!” “I’m not sorry!!” “Ribbit.”  
...Someone literally wrote that. Huh.  
You step towards the plaque on the wall and read what it says.  
_Stay on the path._  
You groan.  
_Not another one! Don’t they have anything more challenging?_  
But alas, a quick glance down the corridor confirms your fears. There are levers set in the wall with paths leading up to them, and only one lever without. You sigh. Might as well.  
_Why is everything so purple, anyway?_  
You muse to yourself as you cross the first of two wooden bridges. The stream beneath is narrow but fast, and the water is dark. You can’t imagine it could be all that deep, though. Could it? You decide not to find out...  
You pull the first lever, and make your way over the second bridge. It creaks beneath you. You wonder idly if it isn’t used to so much weight, and this leads to a pondering of the size and weight of monsters. Flowey wasn’t all that big, and that sign was pretty low to the ground, about at chest height, and most of the graffiti was written around the bottom half of it. Aside from a few outliers like the “I’m not sorry!!” monster. And even some writing on the post itself, although most of the marks down there were just deep, long scratches.  
You barely register the dull clunk as the spikes at the end of the room (pretty cool, right?) retract into the ground. You’re too busy wondering if the caretaker has been trimming all these vines into all these straight, perfect lines.  
Guess she likes gardening?  
That would be more comforting if you didn’t know there were plant people down here.  
The next room is small again, and you’re mildly disappointed. But there’s a lone dummy standing in the room, and you’re intrigued!  
...Well. You are after you realize that’s what it is. It did give you quite a start, for an inanimate training dummy... You approach it and kneel down to look at its “eyes.” One of them has been gouged out, and is covered with a patch made to look like an eyepatch. Some cotton is still sticking out through the stitches.  
“...Hello, Mister Dummy.” You whisper. “I like your eyepatch. It makes you look positively... adaaarrrable!”  
“PfffAHAHAHAHAHAHAAAA!”  
_Oh Jesus what the hell._  
You whirl around.  
If you weren’t sure your heart had already stopped at the laugh, there is no longer any doubt that it’s skipped a beat.  
Because not only have you met your first monster, she’s bigger than you _and she’s wearing the symbol of the Ruins._  
_You have a pretty good idea who this is._  
...Although, you are a little surprised that she is, literally, a goat.  
She has red and yellow bloodshot eyes, but her white fur looks soft and her long ears are absolutely adorable! You wish you could say the same for her smile. She... kind of looks like she could eat you. She kind of looks like she wants to... Her dress is long and tattered, black and white with the emblem etched in red. You were right, it’s comprised of a winged circle and three triangles, two pointing up, the middle pointing down. White dust is being shaken loose as she laughs. There’s very little of the stuff visible on her clothing, so you assume it must be matted in her fur. Has she been baking...?  
You know you should probably run, and after a moment of stunned silence, you finally shake off your thoughts and steel yourself to make a break for it.  
A goat lady blocks your path.  
“And just where do you think **you’re** going?” Her mouth is smiling, but her teeth are sharp and you don’t like the look in her eyes.  
“It has been a long time since a _human_ came to the Underground... _And even longer since I’ve seen an adult...”_ Her eyes flash dangerously. “Ah, but you... You’re... _different.”_  
You open your mouth to ask what she means. A tiny squeak comes out.  
She bursts into maniacal giggles.  
“Oh, you’re certainly the most _interesting_ human I’ve met in a while... _You certainly have better puns._ Ohohoho!”  
“Ehh....” You try to think of something to say. “T-thank you?”  
“Ohohohohoho~” She suddenly snatches your chin and pulls you in for a closer look. You try to ignore the claws digging into your face. You have to focus! “Hmm... No LV... You haven’t killed at all, have you? Not even a single, insignificant froggit?”  
“Uh...”  
“Hmm... Have you even _encountered_ a froggit? I suppose it _is_ a bit soon for them to come _crawling back after..._ Well.” She releases you, and you stumble back and fall to the ground.  
“Ohoho~ Now, where are my manners? I haven’t introduced myself! I am _Toriel,_ caretaker of the Ruins! And you are...?”  
“A-ah... Uh... (N-name)...”  
“Oho~ You’re so _cute_ when you’re frightened! You’re like a child. Albeit a very _large_ one! Ohohoh~”  
“W-well... Who, wants to grow up anyway, right?” You stammer. She stares at you. _Oh god you’re going to get yourself killed aren’t you._ “I mean, what if... what if you run out of room?” _Oh god oh god that was SO shitty there’s no way in HELL she isn’t going to kill you for this YOU would probably kill you for thi-_  
“Fffahahahahahahaha!”  
Huh.  
Is it just you, or does her laugh sound... different? A lot... nicer. You definitely prefer it to whatever it was she was doing before...  
You decide to test your luck.  
“I guess you could always grow _down,_ or _sideways...”_  
_“Six feet down!”_ She gasps amid laughter.  
_Oh right she’s insane. You forgot._  
“H-haha, yeah...”  
“You know... I like you!” She grins. “I think I’ll keep you _around_ for a while! My home is at the end of the Ruins, why don’t you stop by sometime? It isn’t as though you’ve got anywhere _else_ to be! Hoho!”  
“Y-yeah... Right. Right! I’ll, I’ll do that! Definitely... Later! Yeah...”  
“So cute~” She ruffles your hair in a way that feels more painful than affectionate. “And I see you managed the puzzles alright...”  
“Yeah. I like puzzles! These ones were a little simple, but... t-they’re kind of, charming, in their own ways, don’t you think?” _Nice save, (Name)._  
“Oh! If you like puzzles, then you’re going to _looove_ the rest of the Ruins! You’ll be _right_ at home here! And don’t worry, the puzzles _do_ get trickier, if you’re looking for a... _challenge.”_  
For the first time, despite your fear, you feel a genuine smile work its way onto your face. You should probably be worried that the upcoming puzzles will kill you, but you’re honestly too excited by the prospect of some good, old-fashioned puzzle-solving to care.  
“Great! Then I’ll finally have something to... _puzzle_ over!” _Oops._  
“AhahahahahahahaHA! Hopefully you won’t be too... _puzzled!_ Ahahaha!”  
You smile. She certainly doesn’t _seem_ so bad. Maybe Flowey... But no. You trust Flowey, and besides... It’s not like you haven’t seen this played out before. Still...  
Someone who likes bad jokes can’t be ALL bad, right?  
“Well... If I’m going to have guests, then there are some... _errands,_ that I must attend to. I’m terribly sorry, but you’re going to have to make your way through the Ruins on your own. I will meet you there, alright? Oh! Here.” She pulls a cell phone from some unseen pocket and tosses it at you. You scramble to catch it. “Don’t drop it, alright? I will _not_ replace it if you do, **understand?** ” You nod vigorously. “Good. I will see you in an hour or two, human!”  
She pats your head, gently this time. Then she turns back to the door she came from, flanked by vines, and disappears. You realize you never asked her about gardening. Oh, well.  
Her tone did not suggest room for disobedience. You suppose you’ll be seeing her again soon enough.  
Also, what is with that speed? You swear, it’s almost like she vanished as soon as she passed through the doorway!  
You place a hand over your heart, just to feel it throb. Just to remind yourself that you’re still alive. That it never emerged from your body like before.  
That’s right, isn’t it? Toriel didn’t even _try_ to fight you.  
You’re not sure what this means for your future, but you can’t give up now! This entire encounter has been one hell of an emotional rollercoaster, but you’re filled with hope and... determination.  
Seriously, what is with you and that word today?  
You shake your head.  
_Wow._  
_What a nightmare!_


	2. You Knew Those Song Lyrics Would Save You One Day

Well, there’s not much use turning back now, is there? You press on.  
You wish you could say that you’re surprised to find a long room and no sign of Toriel. All these monsters and their magic... Perhaps one day life will make sense again.  
...Nah.  
A path is etched on the floor in front of you, leading nowhere in particular. You quickly note the pattern, as you’re sure it’ll come in handy for the next puzzle. _Over, up, over, down, over, up... over._ Sure enough, there’s a sign on the wall halfway between the two sections of the room, in the middle of a short connecting hallway.  
_The western room is the eastern room’s blueprint._  
Oh, yeah. You were totally expecting that.  
Well, at least this one will be more challenging!  
You can tell, because the second part of the room is filled with _spikes._  
...You suddenly feel a little nervous.  
There are wooden bridges located where the ends of the previous path would be, but the rest of the room is taken up by a large metal platform made up of tiles. Each tile contains no less than four spikes. Everything between this platform and the walls of the room is filled with water.  
The puzzle is dangerous, but you are filled with...  
...Yeah, there is something going on with that word, isn’t there?  
Instead of relying on memory, you decide to play it safe with this one. You go back to the first section of the room, and stand at the start of the path.  
You carefully count out the steps, walking heel to toe along the path. You have to start over a few times because you lose your place, but eventually you feel confident enough to try.  
_Okay, I can do this!_  
You stand at the edge of the puzzle, right before the spikes... You take a deep breath...  
And step forward.  
Nothing happens. The spikes actually disappear, as if they had been illusions all along. All that remains where they were but a moment ago are four holes. You step backwards. The spikes reappear. They look pretty solid, too.  
You’d say it was too good for a hologram, if you didn’t already suspect _magic._  
You begin to count.  
_1, 2, 3, 4, 5..._  
Also, there seems to be a few small piles of dust heaped up on the path as you go along. It looks just like the stuff you saw dropping off of Toriel. What is this stuff? What is it doing here? You make a mental note to ask her, if she doesn’t try to kill you when you see her.  
You know it took you longer than it should’ve to get across, but you still feel very accomplished and badass for having survived! Although, you wonder what would’ve happened if you’d stepped on the spikes... They really don’t seem all that dangerous, to be honest. You mean, they’re high enough that you almost have to step on them deliberately to hurt yourself, so you’re more likely to stub a toe than to sustain any _real_ damage... But just in case, you decide not to poke around. It’s explicitly a trap, you know? Who knows what the consequences could be! Besides, the rules are half the fun!  
The next room is _huge._ The path sort of wends its way through, and all you can see at the other end is a single, crumbling pillar. Or, what’s left of it. The vines are still neat and trim here, but you notice, as you walk, careful to step only on the path, (just in case, you never know!) that the brick is beginning to crumble with age. You wonder if Toriel shouldn’t repair the damages, but it’s not your place to tell her how to do her job. There are also scratches, more unsettling deep gouges, and... burn marks?  
Where did those come from?  
Your footsteps once again echo too loudly for comfort as you plod forward to the end. It’s as if some tension hangs in the air, making you feel out of breath despite your slow pace. You can’t help but fear the pillar up ahead... every room thus far has had a puzzle, and you can’t imagine this one would be an exception... but with no signs, you’re forced to assume that the pillar is the centerpiece of the hall.  
Now that you think about it... you suppose the dummy wasn’t a trap, was it? Or perhaps it was, and you simply managed to avoid triggering it? Who knows. Maybe you’re just paranoid.  
But hey, you _were_ told to expect monsters! So far you’ve met only one, and you feel like you’ve made a fair amount of progress. Shouldn’t you have met someone by now? Besides Toriel?  
You have this horrible feeling that the absence has something to do with her, but you’re not sure why. She did say something about them crawling back... did she scare them all off? But if she did, where would they be hiding? You haven’t found any roads yet, only paths running through linear hallways of rooms... It’s almost a gauntlet, more so than a city. Are they... are they the ruins of some sort of ancient gauntlet? Some trial, which young monsters had to go through to prove themselves?  
...Or were they meant to keep something _out?_  
Hmm...  
_I feel like an intruder..._  
Finally, at long last, you reach the pillar. Wow, what a long room! You cautiously stretch out your hand to place it on the chipped and cracking rock.  
Nothing happens.  
You breathe a sigh of relief.  
_I totally thought something was gonna..._  
“Ribbit.”  
_Son of a bitch, did I jinx it?!_  
Something emerges from behind the pillar. It looks like... a frog? It’s the size of a small child, though. There are fringes of some sort on its cheeks and... a face? On its _stomach?_  
It’s definitely a monster, alright!  
You barely register the stance of its body until it leaps, and it’s too late to dodge. The thing bowls you over with surprising ease, as your soul emerges from your body...  
...Okay. Looks like you’ve met your first real opponent down here.  
_Didn’t Toriel mention something like this? Is this one of those... “froggits” she was talking about?_  
Your physical body is trapped, and your soul has taken some damage... But the frog... froggit?... passed through it, and now it hovers freely above the both of you. The froggit almost immediately turns its attention to your soul, much to your mingled alarm and relief; wriggling doesn’t do much for you, and your soul won’t budge. You try really hard to move it with sheer willpower, and only succeed in making it jiggle a bit. Well, it’s something...  
_Oh, wait, what?!_  
Pure white flies burst into being behind the froggit. They swarm your soul, and though your best efforts manage to avoid the worst of it, the attack still hits. You cry out in pain as your soul throbs. Something drops in the pit of your stomach. You _feel_ your health draining. You have no time to wonder at the fact that your soul is even able to feel pain. It’s probably a magic thing anyway. The physical aspect of it certainly is... you can _feel_ your flesh slicing open. The encounter feels a lot more real, and a lot more _dangerous_ all of a sudden.  
But once again, something cuts through the fog. Through the haze of pain, your mind actually achieves clarity and narrows in on one word:  
_Kindness._  
You don’t want to hurt it... This thing, whatever it is... it has a life. It has sentience. (At least you think it does?) It might even have a family, friends, loved ones... Sure, it’s trying to kill you, but... it’s actually kind of cute, for a giant frog. The face on its stomach is grimacing, but even it looks kind of scared. An image flashes into your head of Flowey... Toriel... the dummy... You think about their injuries, their expressions... You think about how dismal this world is.  
You have a feeling that life is especially hard for this enemy.  
“H-hey, Mister Froggit?” You grit through the pain. “Could you, maybe, get off of me? Please?”  
It doesn’t look like it understands what you’re saying... but it cocks its head at the sound of your voice. You have an idea.  
“Hey,” you try again, voice soft. “You’re a... really nice, uh, terrifying frog monster, aren’t you? I’m sure you could catch a silly little thing like me any day! So, could you, maybe, let me go? Just this once? I would be ever so grateful, if you would be so kind...”  
It still doesn’t understand your words, but you think it understands your tone. Is it just you, or do their cheeks appear to be a darker shade of green than before? Are they... are they blushing?  
Another swarm of white flies appears, but this time they only manage to clip you. The pain is searing, but you smile through it as best you can manage, and sure enough, the froggit’s blush grows.  
You refuse to fight.  
The monster hesitates. You wait for the attack, but it never comes. You feel its weight start to shift, as though it were preparing to jump again. You begin to feel hopeful. It’s going to get off of you now, isn’t it?  
Suddenly white pellets surround the froggit, crunching down onto the monster’s soul. It lets out a startled yelp, leaps over your head and hops away, stumbling as it goes. You can tell that it’s hurt pretty bad, but you think it will live. You soul disappears back into your chest, much to your relief.  
“...Yeah, and STAY away!!” A familiar voice calls out. “...Are you alright?”  
“What did you do that for?” You glare at the flower. He pulls back sharply.  
“Me? I just _saved_ you! You were getting _creamed_ back there! Look at you!” He gestures with one leaf at your bruised and battered body. You look down in surprise. You are bleeding, and your clothes are a little ripped, but it’s nothing serious.  
“I’m not _that_ beat up! I’ll be fine. It was just a frog!”  
“A _froggit._ They’re probably some of the _weakest monsters down here.”_  
“Hey, come one, give him some credit!”  
“I don’t think he deserves it as much as _you_ deserved to die just now. Do you even _know_ how lucky you are to have made it this far?! If I had known you were going to be this much trouble...”  
“Wait... Have you been following me?”  
“Wh-wha? N-no! I was just... It’s not like I... There’s nothing _better to do_ down here, I was just...!”  
You chuckle.  
“Hey, it’s fine. You live here, I’m sure you get a little bored seeing this stuff all day, every day. A new face is always exciting.”  
He huffs.  
“Yeah, well... Try not to _die_ next time, alright? There are lot more monsters out there, and not all of them are like that froggit. Didn’t I tell you your kindness was going to get you _killed?”_  
“Yes. And I’m _determined_ to prove you wrong!”  
“...” He looks at you and groans. “Look, I don’t know how you survived an encounter with Toriel, but I know for _certain_ that you aren’t going to like whatever it is she’s cooking up. So let’s just get there before she does and make sure we’re out of the Ruins before she gets back, okay?”  
You perk up.  
“We? You mean you’re-“  
“Someone’s got to keep an eye on you,” he grumbles. You’re very tempted to coo at his darkened cheeks, but you think better of it. Instead, you take this moment to reflect on the dark marks of his petals that you now recognize to be burn marks. You’d thought they were smears of mud or something before. Somehow, though it causes a jolt, you manage to repress your reaction. You know now that those burn marks on the walls are probably caused by a monster. That makes sense, right? And hey, while you’re thinking about it...  
“Flowey?”  
“Yes?”  
“What’s that white dust stuff I keep seeing everywhere? Toriel was covered in it.”  
“.....” His face twists up so that you regret ever asking. He turns away from you. “I’ll... I’ll tell you later, okay? For now, we need to get moving. You’re too slow, and we don’t have time for this. Come on!”  
He ducks down and pops up again by the door. He waves you over with his leaves. You smile brightly and follow after him.  
“Luckily for you,” he says as he starts moving, roots rippling through the ground as if he were wading through water, “there’s a save point nearby where you can heal yourself. We should also stock up on candy, just in case. Monster food is made entirely out of healing magic, so that’ll come in handy in a fight.” He scowls. “If that encounter was any indication, you’re going to need it. Toriel usually keeps the place stocked, although her candies are terrible... Here we are! Just put your hand over this, and...”  
“Oh!” You smile. “I think I know this part! I found one of these earlier.”  
“At the entrance to the Ruins? I forgot that one was there... You weren’t really injured then, but go ahead... it’s basically the same thing.”  
“So, save points, huh?” You crouch down in front of the little glowing star, nestled amongst the leaves. “Where are these leaves coming from, anyway?”  
“They’re...” he begins, but something rustling beneath the leaves cuts him off. “Watch out!!”  
“Ribbit. Ribbit.” The froggit croaks. Somehow you can understand what he’s saying, even though he is literally just saying the word “ribbit” over and over again with different inflections.  
_Hello, human._  
_I see you’ve encountered one of my kind already._  
_I saw you spare them. I watched you from the doorway._  
_But why?_  
_Why did you do it?_  
_They would not have been so kind, under similar circumstances._  
_I would not be so kind._  
“I didn’t want to hurt them. I don’t want to hurt anybody! You say that, but they spared me back, didn’t they? They could just as easily have finished me off. I think you’re judging them a little harsh.” You soul hasn’t started straining against your chest, so you assume this monster is safe. How convenient, having a soul that can sense when you are in danger!  
The froggit nods thoughtfully.  
“Ribbit, ribbit.”  
_You are a kind human._  
_Kinder than we have seen in a long time._  
_But a word of advice..._  
_Friendliness will only get you so far._  
_Niceness is not enough._  
_You will have to fight back eventually, or you will die._  
“See?” Flowey huffs. “Even the froggit gets it!”  
“But I don’t want to fight back!” You frown. “You’re wrong. You’re both wrong! And I’m gonna prove it to you!”  
“Ribbit...”  
_..........._  
_Human..._  
_I don’t know if what you propose is possible, but..._  
_If it is..._  
_If you can survive the Underground without destroying a single soul..._  
_Without collecting any LV..._  
_Then..._  
_Maybe there is hope for us after all._  
The froggit reaches out and pushes something hard and shiny into your hands.  
“Ribbit, ribbit.”  
_Take this._  
_It isn’t much, but it will help you on your journey._  
_I had thought the Angel was just a myth..._  
_Please..._  
_Prove me wrong._  
The froggit sinks back into the pile of leaves and disappears. You wonder briefly just how deep this pile is. You look down. In your hand is... a large gold coin?!  
It disappears.  
_+2 gold._  
_Total: 2 gold._  
“Huh. That was weird...” You turn to Flowey. “Where did it go? Do I have some kind of magical video game inventory?”  
“Basically, yes. Magical items can be stored magically, get it? We enchant our gold so it’s easier to keep track of... and harder to steal. But items take up space, even in your inventory, and you only get so much room. So let’s fill it up; take these. They taste terrible, but they’ll heal you if you get hurt and we can’t get you to another save point.”  
“Where did these come from?” You ask, gathering the candies in your arms and watching them all disappear, one by one. They’re all wrapped up in black, shiny wrappers with scary orange faces on them. You look up. Through a doorway, you can just make out a white, crumpled shape. Something appears to be spilling out of it. They look like the candies in your palm.  
“There’s a candy bowl in the next room. It’s been broken for years, but Toriel still refills it every couple of days. Usually, anyway.”  
A tiny rustle draws your attention back to the leaves. You hear a faint voice whisper from deep within,  
_“You took more than one... How disgusting...”_  
“Oh, shut up! Everyone does! Don’t act like it hasn’t kept _you_ alive over the years!”  
There is no reply.  
“Come on, the end of the Ruins is this way.”  
You follow him down the path, but a slight rustling catches your attention. Turning back reveals nothing, but you’re certain that your new friend is watching. You smile and wave in the direction you think the noise was coming from. Then Flowey is yelling at you, so you run to catch up.  
Behind you, you hear that voice one last time.  
“Ribbit...”  
_Good luck._  
“You could probably just jump this one. It’s literally just a trap, you’re supposed to fall in the hole and use the vents to get to whichever side. It’s pretty annoying.”  
“So... if I go down this vent, I’ll end up on the other side?”  
_“No,_ and even if you did we don’t have time for-“  
“Too late!” You grin as you heave yourself into the mouth of the vent. You can’t really squeeze your way through before vines start pulling you out again. “Aw, come on!”  
“Do you WANT to die?! Is that it? Because I don’t _have_ to help you, you know!”  
“I know, I know... I’m sorry.”  
“Well... good. You should be. Does this mean you’ll jump the puzzle, then?”  
“Heck, no!”  
And you jump into the hole.  
Sure enough, the ground cracks underneath you and you barely withhold a scream as you plummet to the red leaves below. You groan as you rub at your sore limbs.  
“Tch.” Flowey crosses his leaves as he glares down at you. “I should leave you down there, you know.”  
“This’ll only take a second!”  
“You’re not going to _fit!”_  
“Sure I will! I’ll definitely fit!”  
You walk into the doorway you assume leads to the corresponding side, and begin to crawl upwards. The path gets narrower and narrower until you can hardly move or breathe, but you suck in your gut and claw your way to the light. Flowey, very reluctantly, helps pull you through.  
“You are the bane of my existence.”  
You laugh as you look up at his furious face. You are lying flat on your back, breathing heavy from your adventure.  
“That was fun.”  
He huffs and pops underground. You instantly sober.  
“Hey... Hey! I was just kidding! Come on! I won’t do it again! I promise!”  
“...Promise?”  
You exhale in relief, and nod.  
“Promise.”  
“...Fine. But you need to listen to me from now on, alright?”  
You give him two thumbs up. He rewards you with a face-palm.  
“Let’s just go...”  
You follow him into the next room.  
You sigh.  
The last two puzzles were fun, but now it seems things have taken a turn for the plain again. In this room, a line of spikes blocks your way, and you don’t even need to read the sign on the wall to know that it has something to do with pushing the _very big and very obvious rock_ into its _very obvious position_ on top of a platform behind it.  
There’s even a groove where it’s been moved so many times before!  
Still, out of respect for civic duty, you approach the sign.  
“Wha... You don’t need to read _every_ sign, you know! They’re really not that interesting, and you already _know_ the solution. I mean, look at it! _Literal children_ have solved this puzzle! _Literal children five and below!”_  
_3 out of 4 gray rocks recommend you push them._  
This sign has been marked up like the last one, but you suppose fewer monsters could reach. There are only a few comments here.  
_The 4th is a sadist._  
You can’t help it. You snort.  
_No, the 4th is an asshole._  
You snicker.  
“...Oh, come on. Those idiots aren’t _that_ clever...”  
“Aw, come on, Flowey! I think it’s _cute_ that they’re telling jokes! It’s better than being mean to each other!”  
“You do know that... Nevermind. Figure it out yourself.”  
“What?”  
He rolls his eyes and goes underground, popping up on the other side of the spikes.  
“Hey, that’s cheating!”  
“It’s not _cheating,_ it’s... _using my strengths to my advantage!”_  
“That’s just a fancy way of saying ‘cheating!’ That’s what cheaters say!”  
“Fine, I’m a cheater, will you just step over the stupid spikes or push the stupid rock already _we’re running out of time.”_  
“We haven’t even been here that long! Toriel said she’d meet us there in a few _hours,_ we’ve got a _little_ time!”  
“No, we don’t! The Ruins are small, and we want to get there _before_ she does! Now get moving and _move the freaking rock!!”_  
You have to get on your knees to push, since your legs just aren’t strong enough to move it. You grunt from the force of it, but it’s really not that heavy. At least, not for the size of it. It’s pretty light, for such a big rock. That does not, by any means, mean that it is _a light rock._  
“There, it’s been moved. Happy?”  
“Just get over here!”  
You step over the now empty tiles. You raise your arms triumphantly. Flowey visibly tries not to smile.  
“Alright, alright. I get it. Lead the way. You’re the boss.”  
He grins as he starts moving again.  
“I actually am,” he snickers. “Or, at least... I was. I used to be something called a boss monster, it’s... it’s not important.”  
“Oh, cool! So, were you, like, a _boss_ boss, or a video game boss?”  
“...Video game boss. Life’s not a game, you know? But it’s the same basic concept.”  
“Hey, not my fault that everything down here is structured like an RPG.”  
“STOP!” You freeze, and he gestures to the debris covering the hall in front of you. “There’s another trap here, idiot! Follow me, I know the path...”  
“Aw, but that’s _cheating!”_  
He glares at you.  
“Look, we don’t have time for you to go falling down any more holes, alright? Besides, you’re a lot bigger than the other humans who came here, you barely even _fit_ in the vents. The last thing we need is for you to get _stuck_ or something. Just... just work with me on this? I’ll even tell you what the signs say!”  
“But what’s down there?”  
“Oh, for... _Here.”_ A vine weaves its way through a patch of the floor, causing it to fall away, revealing red leaves down below. They look very particularly arranged. “See those? The sign tells you not to step on them. That’s the clue. The sign up here just tells you to read the one downstairs. So just... trust me on this one, alright? If you fall, you might be stuck for a while.”  
“Alright. You’re the boss monster!”  
“Heh. _Dork.”_  
You smile.  
He moves carefully along the safe path, always watching that you don’t slip or fall or misstep behind him. It’s actually pretty easy, and mostly involves moving from one wall to the next. There’s a patch of red leaves underneath a sign, and you come close enough in passing to make out what it says.  
_Didn’t you read the sign downstairs?_  
_I hate this puzzle! It’s stupid!_  
_You’re just mad because you suck at it!_  
_You suck at it!_  
_I’m not the one who keeps falling down!_  
_I’ll make you fall down!_  
“Really?” Flowey raises an eyebrow as you snicker.  
“What? Some of them are pretty funny! I’m not allowed to enjoy it?”  
“...Falling down means entering a coma.”  
“Oh...” You suddenly find that last comment to be a lot less funny. “Well, it’s still pretty clever... right?”  
He stares at you and shakes his head.  
“We’ve got to keep moving. This one is just an extension of the earlier puzzle, so there’s no sign for you to fawn over. Should be easy.”  
“Hey, if you’re annoyed by my sign reading, just tell me, okay? Give me a _sign.”_  
“That was terrible.”  
“You’re smiling~”  
“You’re terrible.”  
“You like it~”  
“I hate you.”  
“No you don’t~”  
_“Just push the rocks.”_  
You half expect to be attacked as you push the first two rocks into place, but you trust Flowey to tell you if you’re making a mistake, and besides... you’re way too happy to be here in the first place. You mean, sure, you’re trapped underground with a bunch of monsters who want to kill you... But you’ve made an awesome little flower friend, and people down here _really_ seem to like your jokes, which makes you happy. And it’s actually pretty nice down here... the darkness and the increasing dilapidation of the hallways only serves to make it look cooler, in your opinion. Plus, look at all of these cool puzzles! So what if some of them are a little easy! You’re having the time of your life solving them!  
You can’t seem to stop smiling.  
You look up to see if the spikes blocking off the next room have gone down yet. They haven’t. Puzzled, you turn to the final rock. _The 4th rock._ Supposedly, this one shouldn’t be pushed. But it’s settled in a groove of its own that would seem to indicate otherwise...  
“Just _push_ it, it’s a rock, it can’t _stop_ you!”  
“Aw, but...”  
“SHUT UP!”  
You jump horribly as the rock in front of you begins to speak. Er, yell.  
“I’m tryna SLEEP here, ya goddamn _hooligans!”_  
...And suddenly, those remarks on the earlier sign hit home. You feel a little bad for laughing. Even though it _was_ pretty funny...  
“Uhm... E-excuse me, Mister Rock...”  
“Whatdya want?! Didn’t I just say I was tryin’ ta sleep?! If you think I’m gonna let you push me when I’m havin’ a nap, then you can just think again, you dirty little...”  
“And what are you gonna do about it, anyway?” Flowey huffs.  
“Flowey!!” You snap. “Ah, don’t mind him, Mister Rock! I was just wondering, if maybe you wouldn’t mind, moving back a little?”  
“Move... back?”  
“Just to that little platform there! I really need to get through! I won’t bother you again.”  
“.............”  
Just as you’re about to speak again, it cuts you off.  
“...Alright, but only ‘cause I _want_ to, not ‘cause ya _asked_ or anythin’...”  
And to your utter amazement, the rock begins to _move._ It slides backwards of its own account, and settles on the platform. You beam at Flowey.  
“Thanks ever so much, Mister Rock! I really appreciate it!”  
“Yeah, yeah...” It grumbles, but you get the feeling it enjoys your praise. “Just get movin’, I’m not gonna sit here all day!”  
“Well, actually...” Flowey mumbles. You cut him off with a glare. “...What?”  
“Be nice,” you hiss, as you step over the spike tiles, which act as a bridge over a familiar-looking stream. You pause at the next doorway. “Thanks again! Enjoy your nap!”  
“Feh. You kids.”  
“See, Flowey? I really _can_ get by just by being nice to people!”  
“I don’t understand why that rock listened to you, but you can’t just go on thinking that _every_ monster you encounter is going to just, _roll over_ and let you pass because you _asked nicely.”_  
“Why not? Okay, okay, don’t get mad! I’m just saying, what’s wrong with trying kindness _first?_ If that doesn’t work, I can always, I don’t know... run. Right? So what’s the harm in trying?”  
“The _harm_ is that you’re going to get _attacked_ and you won’t be _able_ to run! Besides, what makes you think you can outrun a monster, anyway?”  
“Well...”  
“Oh, I’m _sorry,_ am I in your way? Ahahahahahaha!”  
You start, and your soul bursts from your chest even as Flowey prepares to defend you.  
“Stand back, (Name)! I’ll handle this guy!”  
“No! Don’t hurt him!”  
“Huh?” The winged insect (ghost?) creature stares at you in shock. Its shredded, skeletal thin wings flutter nervously before its expression settles back into a sneer.  
_“What? Are you...”_  
“...Think you can fool me, eh? Play the part of the kind and helpless stranger, make me feel _bad_ for attacking you? You want me to feel _sorry_ for you? Is that it? Because news flash, pal: _it won’t work.”_  
“What, no, that wasn’t-!”  
But it’s too late... A ring of moth bullets appears, and you close your eyes...  
Nothing happens. By the time you get the nerve to open them again, the bullets are disappearing. The monster looks embarrassed and angry.  
“Hey!! That’s cheating! You can’t just stand there! You’ve gotta fight back!”  
“But I don’t _wanna_ fight back!”  
“Are you... mocking me? _Are you making fun of me? Making fun of ‘ol Whimsun...”_  
“Come on, (Name)! Just fight back already!”  
You get the feeling this enemy is too defensive to fight.  
_“ **I’ll make you pay!** ”_  
This time, you don’t even bother to close your eyes. You have a gut feeling about this monster, and sure enough... the creepy, bat-like moths form columns on either side of you.  
You are unharmed.  
“Why, you... H-how DARE you make fun of m-“  
“I’m not making fun of you, Mister! I just don’t like fighting, honest!” You smile. “By the way, I like your antennae!”  
“Wha-?” The Whimsun, as you think it called itself, seems taken aback. You feel your soul wavering on the edge of return. Mercy is close, you can _feel_ it.  
“I’m sorry if I got in your way, sir, my friend and I were just passing through. We can step aside if you need to pass, we can wait!”  
_“What? No we-“_  
_“We apologize for any inconvenience we may have caused you.”_  
Flowey takes the hint and stops talking. For now.  
But that doesn’t stop him from turning away with a scoff.  
You feel your soul start to pull towards you as the Whimsun regards you suspiciously. You give him the best, most sincere smile you can manage. That seems to do the trick.  
“I’m not sorry I attacked you, okay? Just... just don’t get in my way next time, you... you _freaks!”_  
And with that, he’s gone. He flits off into the room behind you and you give Flowey a grin and a thumbs up. He rolls his eyes, and tilts his head towards a table you didn’t notice before. Beside it is a save point. On top of it... _yikes_. A loaded mousetrap.  
A very obvious mouse hole (rat hole?) lies in the wall across from it, and you swear that you catch just a glimpse of a pair of bright red, beady eyes as you look at it. The sight makes you a little nervous, to be honest.  
You’re not sure why you need to use the save point, but it’s closest to you and Flowey seems to be watching you, expectant, so you crouch down and warm your hands over the thing. You turn your head to eye the mousetrap as you do so, wondering if the rat will ever manage to get the cheese without hurting itself. You hope so.  
_“Ugh... This guy...”_ Flowey mutters. He’s looking into the next room, frowning, and you follow his gaze to a pale white mass lying on a bed of red leaves. He starts as you take a step forward. _“H-hey, wait! You can’t be serious? This one’ll **actually** kill you, can’t we just... sneak around it, or...”_  
You ignore his furious whispering and approach the monster. Flowey goes silent as you get closer, likely out of fear rather than trust, but you don’t mind. You’re too busy being amused by the fact that this monster is _literally_ speaking the word “Z” over and over again, obviously pretending to sleep. It’s kind of adorable.  
“....ZZZZZZZZ.... Are they gone yet...ZZZZZ...OH. MY. GOD. LEAVE. ZZZZZZ...”  
_Heh. This monster is literally me._  
“E-excuse me, Mi-“  
“ **I’m. Not. In. The. M O O D.** ”  
And already your soul has emerged from your chest! This isn’t good...  
“H-heeey, uh... We don’t want any trouble, alright? We were just... were... just... Are you crying?”  
“What?! **NO!** That’s just how my attacks work!! **Shut up!** ”  
White tears spill from his eyes, and sure enough, they defy gravity and direct themselves straight at you. You hiss as you fail to dodge them all. _Shit, that really hurts. What even is this stuff?!_  
“Ahh... W-well, I-I’m very sorry to have disturbed you, Mister... Mister... I’m sorry, what...”  
“ **SHUT UP!** Why should I tell you my name?! You’d just forget it anyway!”  
Something shifts in his expression. Your soul trembles. What is this...?  
And what is he doing down here, anyway?  
Before you can wonder anymore, the tears begin to fall again. Only this time, they move like lightning bolts, jerking through the air and circling around you, forcing you to move in ways you haven’t moved before. This means you have to keep your soul off the ground as the squirming tears begin raining down on you from above. This is even _more_ difficult to dodge, and you let out a small cry from the pain. At this point you can’t even tell if he’s aiming for your body or your soul, but both hurt. Actually, it occurs to you that he’s not really... _aiming..._ at all.  
Well, no one else wanted to fight... Why should he?  
_Alright. I can **do** this. What do I know about him?_  
_I know he’s lying on his back on a pile of leaves, pretending to sleep._  
_Flowey knows him, so presumably he’s been here before._  
_He’s... upset? And alone... self-conscious? Doesn’t want to be forgotten..._  
**_Oh._**  
You don’t even realize you’re staring as you take in all of his features. There really isn’t much to take in... He looks like a sheet ghost, with bright red eyes and ragged edges. The dark shading around his eyes seems to be natural. It makes him look haggard, and even more cartoonish than he already is. There really isn’t anything else to find noticeable. He’s... he’s kind of cute, actually. Like a Halloween plushie.  
“...What? Why are you staring at me like that? **It’s rude to stare. I’ll kill yo-** ”  
“O-oh, no, s-sorry, Sir! I-I was just... I mean... It’s not every day you get to meet a _ghost,_ It’s quite the honor, I’ve always _wanted_ to meet one...”  
_“...Mind games, huh? Won’t work. I’m a ghost. I have no brain.”_  
“...” Even Flowey seems stunned. If the ghost has any idea what he’s just done, he isn’t giving any indication of it. _“Omg.”_ You can’t help it. You start to snicker.  
“...What? Why are you laughing? Are you... laughing at me? Stop it! **Stop laughing!** ”  
“Ahh, n-no, Sir! I-I’m not laughing at _you._ That was just, _really funny,_ what you just said!”  
“What I just said? **What’s wrong with what I said?** ”  
“N-nothing! Nothing at all! I thought it was brilliant!”  
A faint blush seems to appear on his cheeks. Then his confusion turns to anger.  
“I told you, mind games won’t work! What do you think I am, _stupid?!”_  
“No! Of course not!”  
The tears begin to flow, and this time they show no sign of stopping. You hear Flowey shouting at you, and though you don’t understand what he’s saying, you manage to make out the words “inventory” and “candy.” You aren’t really sure how to access your strange new magical inventory, but you hope, quite desperately, that it’s going to be an instinctual thing because you have a feeling you’re going to need it. Soon.  
Okay, now. Now is soon. _You need that candy now._  
You thrust your hands into your pockets, searching for anything that might help you. One hand pulls out a candy! The other pulls out something else, which you really don’t have time to pay attention to. Instead, you stuff it back and begin to fumble with the wrapper. Flowey yells something about it, and though you don’t understand what he’s saying through the blood rushing in your ears, you have, by now, come to the realization that the wrapper is probably _also_ magic. You pop the whole thing in your mouth.  
_Blech. Black licorice._  
Sure enough, you feel most of the pain instantly fade away. The buzz of magic, in and of itself, feels good. What’s more, you think you are beginning to get the hang of this “soul dodging” thing. You’re still getting hurt, but you’re able to avoid the worst of it.  
The ghost is still crying.  
_This monster doesn’t seem like he has much of a sense of humor..._  
“L-look, it’s a compliment, okay? I just thought what you did was really clever! I like jokes! W-wanna hear a joke? Oh... uh, I guess I’m not really that good at telling them on command, but... here goes! Uh... why did the chicken cross the park?”  
“ **SHUT. UP. JUST SHUT UP AND DIE ALREADY.** ”  
“Yeesh, tough crowd...”  
You dive to the ground to avoid an onslaught of tears, having just spotted a clear pocket. And speaking of pockets, something falls out of yours in the process. It makes a clatter that doesn’t sound at all like magic or candy or candy wrappers, and you realize that this sound is familiar to you. _Very_ familiar.  
So familiar that you actually forget for a moment that you are _literally saturated in acid rain right now_ and cry out in gleeful recognition.  
_“My music!”_  
The attack stops. You fail to notice until your hand has clamped protectively over your music player and the last of the tears that were already in motion run their course. You quickly pop another candy into your mouth, relishing the texture despite the taste. When the pain fails to rekindle itself, you look up.  
“.........”  
“Uh...”  
“..................You. like... music?”  
“Uh... Yeah! I _love_ music! Doesn’t everyone?” _Hang on._ “Do... you like music?”  
“You just said everyone did. What, so now I’m not even a **person?** ” You’re not sure how it’s possible for someone with no body hair or other related physical features to speak of to bristle but he does.  
“NO! No, that’s... that’s not what I meant at all!! I mean... just... what, _sorts_ of, songs, do you listen to?” You spit the words out as quickly as you are able, in the hopes that you will prevent a second round of attack. At this point you’re a hysterical, gibbering _mess,_ but his intense _(and immensely hypocritical)_ stare leaves no doubt in your mind that he is both watching, and listening, very closely. You assume this means your words are at least coherent. So, you know... At least you’ve still got _that_ going for you.  
“H-hey, w-why don’t we listen to something?” Still no reply. “I’ve got a lot of songs, so just... let me know, what sorts of... what _kind_ of music you listen to, and I’ll... and I’ll... oh... it’s... out of batteries. Hah... W-well, maybe... maybe some other time, yeah? Do... do you, have a charger, by any chance?”  
“..........”  
“Ah... I... guess it’s fine, I mean... everything seems to be magic powered down here anyway...”  
“....I might... be able to find something. At home. Oh...... But you’ll be dead by then, won’t you? Oh....... Well, if you’re not dead... maybe you can, stop by... or whatever... in Waterfall...”  
Your soul hasn’t returned yet, but you can already tell it will. He’s showing no signs of continuing his previous onslaught, and he’s talking like he _almost_ hopes you’ll make it out of the Ruins. This waterfall... Is it a town name or an actual, physical waterfall? Does he live in a cave? You _are_ underground. Sorry, Underground. It wouldn’t be that weird.  
He seems to be weighing his choices. You choose not to speak, lest you offend him or otherwise influence his decision. Instead, you smile hopefully. Smiles are powerful. You’ve already won several fights with them, you should know.  
“......Sing something.”  
“I’m sorry... What?”  
“You said you’d play a song. You didn’t think I’d let you off just because your music player won’t work? I want to hear a song. If it’s good enough, I might even let you live. So how about it?”  
“O-oh... Well... I’m not really much of a singer, or anything...”  
“ **Sing.** ”  
You briefly consider your options... humiliation or death.  
You briefly consider death. His welling tears suggest otherwise.  
“...O-okay, well... Any requests? What kinds of songs do you like?”  
“....Spook Tunes....”  
“...Is that a... _specific artist?”_  
“....Yeah.”  
“I... don’t think I know them, sorry.”  
“Figures,” he mutters. “I don’t know why I thought a human would have any better taste than all the other idiots down here, with their shit music...”  
_Oh he did NOT just go there._  
_“Hey._ My interests cover a _wide range_ of songs so don’t act like your tastes are so much better _thank you very much.”_  
You regret the words as soon as they leave your mouth.  
He regards you silently. Is he shocked? Angry?  
“I mean... Don’t you think it’s a little _rude_ to insult someone’s music, it’s a little like insulting their mother... to a music lover, anyway...”  
“.....Do you have anything..... spooky?”  
The question surprises you. You feel yourself start to smile as you meet his gaze.  
“Sure! How about... mmm...”  
And slowly, hesitantly, you began to sing.  
_Boys and girls of every age,_  
_Wouldn’t you like to see something strange?_  
_Come with us and you will see,_  
_This, our town of Halloween~_  
Really, is it any surprise that the little ghost would remind you of Halloween? Let’s face it, your voice isn’t akin to an angel or a meadowlark, but it’s the words that count here, right?  
He listens attentively, although you can’t read his expression.  
You’re a little out of breath by the time you finish, even though it hasn’t been all that long and you’ve been singing quietly, both to affect an air of creepiness and to avoid attracting any monsters who might be curious about the sound. There’s a long pause while you catch your breath and wait for his response.  
Although you already know how he feels. Your soul returned to your chest about halfway through.  
“Ah... Was that, alright? I mean, I know I’m a lousy singer, but... did you... was the song alright?”  
“......It was... fine.” He floats in a manner that somehow seems more... uncomfortable than before. Well, you know how defensive he can be, so this is actually pretty kind, coming from him. As far as you can tell, this is probably the closest to a compliment that you’re going to get. That said... you’ll take it!  
“...Do you... have... more... songs like that?”  
“Sure, lots! I’ll listen to anything, so I have hundreds of songs...”  
“Yeah?” He almost sounds impressed, or maybe skeptical? It’s a little hard to tell with him. When he’s not angry his voice is almost... deadpan.  
...Well. He’s kind of always angry. But you’re starting to differentiate between _angry_ angry and regular angry. This is progress.  
“Yeah! I mean, not all of them are spooky, but... I love Halloween, so I always have some Halloween music on me! Not to mention Tim Burton is _amazing..._ That’s, uh, the guy from, the guy who made the movie... _Nightmare Before Christmas._ That’s what that song was from.”  
“Oh... I didn’t know humans celebrated Christmas... Not that I _care_ or anything, it’s not like that stuff can even _hurt_ ghosts.”  
“Oh... Sure...” _What the hell does that mean, do monsters try to KILL each other on Christmas, what...?_  
_“...Look,_ I’m not doing this because I _like_ you or anything... but you aren’t worth the _effort_ of killing. See you around... You know, _if you survive._ Which you probably won’t.” He flies through the wall and disappears. You beam at Flowey, who is staring at you strangely. There are candies on the ground around him, which indicates to you that he must’ve gone back to the candy bowl while you were fighting. The fact that he decided to get you more healing items rather than fight or pressure _you_ to fight touches you. Then you remember what the ghost said, and wonder if he even _could_ have fought them. Which reminds you... you didn’t catch their name!  
You open your mouth to comment on your victory, and the ghost reappears, startling both you and Flowey horribly.  
“Oh, I forgot... My name is **Napstablook,** got it? Spelled **Nap. Stab. Look.** Don’t forget it. I’ll _really_ kill you if you do. Got it?” You nod, and open your mouth to speak. He cuts you off. “I live in a blue house in Waterfall. There’s a red house next to it, but don’t go in there because it belongs to my _stupid cousin._ Try not to _die_ before you get there, alright? And, uh..... Thanks.”  
He disappears again before you can say a word, and you can’t help but give Flowey a cheerful look. He looks stunned, almost horrified.  
_“Witness the power of my friendship.”_ You whisper.  
Aaaand he’s back to rolling his eyes at you.  
“I’m keeping these for when you inevitably need them later.”  
“I _knew_ my encyclopedic knowledge of children’s movies would save me one day!”  
“You know you’re going to _die,_ right?”  
“Hey, if you take my soul, will my soul retain my memories? What about my personality? Would you start to act like me?”  
_“Oh, god_. Now I’m actually _glad_ I didn’t kill you when I had the chance...”  
“You coulda killed me at any time. You keep me around because you _love_ me~”  
_“Ughhh.”_  
All is right with the world again.  
_Stupid, stupid world._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I kind of gleaned a lot of the monster designs from various Underfell fanart, so I won't take credit for that. Also, Flowey is technically incorrect, "falling down" means "dying," but since most monsters turn to dust immediately, the term generally applies only when monsters lose consciousness before their deaths, hence... comas. At least, that's how I understand it!  
> I hope this came out alright, I had some trouble with Napstablook in particular...  
> Bonus points if you get the reference at the end!


	3. Home is Where the Heart Gets Ripped Out (Wait)

“Come on, it’s this way."  
“What’s over here?” You gesture at the path that leads straight ahead. You can see a sign in the adjoining room.  
“A bake sale.”  
“ _Ooh!_ Can we...?”  
He makes a face.  
“It’s a _spider_ bake sale. You don’t want what they’re selling, trust me. You couldn’t afford it, anyway.”  
“Aw, but what if we need more healing items?” He goes to speak. You cut him off. “I _know_ you have two slots left.” You’re bluffing. You have _no idea_ how big his inventory is. All you know is yours carries 8, and you haven’t seen him carry any more than that. Assuming his inventory works the same as yours, and he brought you as many candies as he could carry, _both_ times, you think you can safely assume he has nothing else taking up that space. If he gave you two candies to replace the ones you used, then he should have two spaces left. Right?  
You mean, you’re no genius but you think you can handle _basic math._  
“...Fine. But you’re paying me back after this, alright? I swear, we should be halfway to _Snowdin_ by now... Heck, if it was just me I’d be halfway to _New Home_ by now!”  
“You’re gonna have to tell me where those are, okay? You’ve got a _lot_ of explaining to do.” You try to hurry, since you know Flowey’s getting impatient.  
“Don’t worry, you’ll get to see everything once we get out of here. Toriel won’t leave the Ruins. Although, you should really try to hurry out of the Underground, since it’ll be harder for you the more monsters know you’re around.”  
He goes right up to the larger of the two, _massive_ webs that dominate the northern wall of this room.  
“One cider and one donut, and make it snappy.”  
You repress a snicker.  
One of the many, _many_ large spiders crawling around the web drops down on one shimmering strand and starts flicking several pairs of legs at him in a manner you can only assume is aggressive. Flowey growls.  
“Look, I’ve got the gold, what more do you want?”  
While he argues with the spiders, you take a moment to read the sign.  
_Spider bake sale._  
_All proceeds go to real spiders._  
Looks like someone tried to graffiti this sign, too, but didn’t get very far. There’s part of a message scratched into the wood, and a spider is currently working to cover the last bit of it with webbing. You didn’t notice before, but there’s some of that white dust heaped up on the floor beneath it.  
You wave at the spider.  
It waves back.  
You look up at Flowey in your delight, just in time to see a gold coin vanish from the arms (legs?) of the first spider, while more spiders descend toward him with a jug and a purple donut. He accepts them, and they disappear into his inventory.  
“Buh-bye!” You make a point of waving to all of them as you leave.  
Dozens of legs wave back at you.  
Your face hurts from smiling.  
“I just made, like, _so many_ friends!”  
Flowey snorts.  
“Sucking up to the customer doesn’t make them your _friends._ It’s just good business.”  
“It’s also good friendship.” You shrug. “I choose to believe that we’re friends now. Also, did you _see_ how _cute_ that was?! So many teeny tiny people waving at me! _So cute~”_  
“You think spiders are _cute?”_ He looks disgusted, but the corners of his mouth twitch upwards.  
“I mean, they freak the _hell_ outta me, but they’re cool. I guess.” You shrug again. He sighs.  
“I can’t tell if you’re the nicest or the _dumbest_ human ever to come here.”  
“Why not both?” You grin as the two of you enter the next room, through the door north of where you “fought” Napstablook.  
There are no less than three froggits here, but none of them move to attack you. You breathe a sigh of relief, and even Flowey seems less anxious than you would have expected, although he keeps sneaking glances in their direction. All of them seem to be watching you back, though your soul gives no indication of danger. _Yet._ You glance at the sign as you pass. Its contents stop you in your tracks.  
_Did you miss it? Spider bake sale down and to the right._  
_Come eat food made by spiders, for spiders, of spiders!_  
Your stomach lurches.  
“Um... Flowey...”  
He smirks.  
“I _did_ try to warn you.”  
“Ehhh...”  
“Don’t worry, we’ll save the spider products for last. Worst case scenario. I mean, can’t be much worse than these candies...”  
“Oh, blech! I _know._ I _hate_ black licorice!”  
“Who _doesn’t?_ ”  
“I don’t mind it,” one of the froggits mumbles under their breath. Flowey stops smiling.  
Looking down the corridor at the frogs, all lined up beside the path there, you half expect them all to start smoking cigars. They’re like a small gang, hanging out in an alleyway waiting for their next ambush. That imagery certainly doesn’t reassure you at all...  
“Oh, well, yeah, I mean, everyone has their own tastes, you know? If you like it, that’s fine. My friend and I just... don’t.”  
The final froggit nods sagely.  
“Hey, uh... You okay?” You can’t help but notice how... downtrodden the first froggit seems. You know you should just let it go, since it’s not attacking you and you’re already living on borrowed time, but... the way it shifts its gaze from you to the floor as you approach just breaks your heart. Like someone who just called out for help and realized it wasn’t coming. Like someone who’s just given up. Well, that won’t do! You refuse to leave until this poor creature has received the help it deserves!  
The froggit sighs. Its friends turn away.  
“It ain’t no big deal, see, but, ah... My friend never listens to me. Whenever I talk, they just.... interrupt me..... or walk away..... or....”  
“Get on with it,” Flowey huffs.  
_“Flowey.”_  
“What?”  
_“Let him speak!”_  
The froggit looks up at you in surprise.  
“....Ah. Nobody’s ever done _that_ before. You’re a nice one, ain’tcha? Well, at least _you_ listen to me. Here, take this gold. I don’t got a use fer it. Those spiders creep me out, anyway.”  
“Really?” The second froggit chimes in, turning back to its friend. “You don’t think it’s worth it? Not even fer a refreshing jug of spider cider? Stuff’s quality, man. Spiders always make the _best_ refreshments. Ain’t _nobody_ in the Ruins makes a donut like...”  
“Ah, shut up!”  
As they bicker, you try to push back the gold coin that the first one is offering you.  
“No, really, I couldn’t...”  
“Yes, you could. You owe me 25g, remember?”  
“I do? _Oh, right._ Really, 25? That’s... huh.”  
“Take it. It’s the least we can do. Yer a real sweetheart, we don’t get many pals like you through the Ruins.”  
The other froggits nod sagely. You wonder if it’s their aesthetic.  
_I wonder why no one refers to me by gendered pronouns down here..._  
“Think of it as payment for not fighting them,” Flowey encourages.  
You sigh, and accept the coin.  
_+2 gold._  
_Total: 4 gold._  
“Are you sure it’s alright?”  
The froggits croak in amusement, closing their eyes and smiling like a row of purring cats. Then the last one in the row calls out to you, and you’re obliged to answer. As you step by the second froggit, it also slips a coin into your hand, and before you can even think to react, it’s gone.  
_+2 gold._  
_Total: 6 gold._  
“H-hey, I don’t need...”  
“Move along, human.”  
“We have heard of you, Fallen One. You spared one of us. You spared a whimsun. You even spared that ghost. It almost killed you, and still you refused to fight. You have been merciful, and we appreciate it.”  
_Were they watching me from the doorway again?_  
_What’s with these monsters and watching me get beat down?_  
“However...”  
_Oooh, I bet I know what he’s gonna say._  
“...The Underground does not take kindly to kindness. Your efforts will only entice your opponents to greater fury. Are you prepared to face this?”  
You nod.  
“So be it. Consider this a thank you, for sparing our cousin. May it help you to survive, just a _little_ bit longer.”  
_+2 gold._  
_Total: 8 gold._  
_Wow. So much gold in so little time. You’re practically rich!_  
“There’s actually four of us in here, ya know... I bet if you find our brother he’ll give ya some gold, too!” The middle froggit says suddenly. You blink. _You only see three..._  
“Oh, please.” Flowey interrupts. “We don’t have time for hide-and-seek with your little...”  
_Too late._  
“That sounds like fun! Can I get a hint? I’m kinda in a hurry...”  
“...He’s small. Real small. An’ he likes high places.”  
“Hmm...” You eye the walls. You doubt this frog is hidden in another room, then. Small indicates to you that he’s hidden in plain sight, and you assume the height references the wall. You walk towards the wall, intent on walking its length when movement catches your eye. You gasp. _A tiny frog!_  
It waves at you from its tiny crevice in the wall. Your heart melts. It’s actually pretty low down, chest height, at best... But you suppose that must feel like a mile for someone his size!  
You don’t even know how he manages to give you his coins. The coin was bigger than his entire body. Still. You earned it!  
_+2 gold._  
_Total: 10 gold._  
_Almost halfway there!_  
“I’m leaving you,” Flowey warns from the doorway.  
“I’m coming, I’m coming!” You run to catch up, pausing at the door to wave at your new friends. “’Bye, everyone! Thanks for the gold!”  
“Good luck, human.” They respond in unison.  
You wonder where they learned to speak English. You shrug it off as you read the next sign. There are no spiders here to cover up the increasingly familiar handwriting of the residents of the Ruins.  
_There is just one switch._  
_This one’s dumb, it always hurts when you fall._  
_It’s a trap, idiot! Of course it hurts!_  
_It’s a stupid trap! It’s supposed to hurt humans, not monsters!_  
_Since when were there any humans down here, anyway?_  
_It could happen!_  
...Judging by that, the three wall vents and six piles of debris on the floor, you think you can guess what the puzzle is about. You’re all prepared to sigh at the predictability of it, when something totally unexpected happens.  
_Your phone rings._  
You scramble to find it, before realizing it’s in your inventory or something. (Not taking space? How does that work?) You pull it out, and just barely manage to answer.  
“H-hello?”  
_“There_ you are! I thought maybe you’d been killed, but I guess you’re still kicking, aren’t you? _How exciting!_ Killed anyone yet?”  
“Uh... No? I met a froggit, though! It was really nice!”  
_“Really.”_  
Flowey is making _cut it_ gestures at you with his leaves. You mouth silently at him, trying to tell him you can’t, when Toriel speaks again.  
“I’m glad you’re having _fun_ in the Ruins... Where are you now, anyway?”  
“Uhhh...” You look around. Flowey has disappeared underground, and you’re on your own. You feel like he would want you to lie, though. That seems like a Flowey thing to do. “W- _I_ just finished the, one with all the leaves... You know, the one where the floor falls out from under you?”  
_“Ooh~_ That’s a tricky one! Solved that all by _yourself,_ did you?”  
“Er... W-well... I did, find a f-friend, but... I like to solve the puzzles myself, so... he’s not helping me out too much.”  
“I... see. Tell me, (Name). Which do you prefer... pumpkin, or pecan?”  
“Oh, uh... Pumpkin, I guess?”  
“Hmm... You are not allergic to pecans, are you?”  
“No... why?”  
_“No reason._ And, lastly... You do not, _dislike_ pecans, do you? You would not turn up your nose, if you found some on your plate?”  
“Well... no. Are you... are you making something?”  
“That is not for you to know. I will see you soon. I will be finished with my errands shortly.”  
“O-oh. That’s nice. W-we’ll meet you there! My... friend and I.”  
“Mm~ I look forward to it.”  
_Click._  
...Well.  
You can’t tell if that was reassuring or terrifying.  
_Is she making pie?_  
_Would I... would I eat it if she made me pie?_  
Flowey pops up again, with a faded ribbon in his mouth. The spikes at the end of the room have gone down, and you realize that he solved the puzzle while you were talking. _Without you._  
You suppose you really are racing the clock at this point, but you still don’t like missing out on all the fun. Even if it _is_ really obvious what the solution is.  
“...That was Toriel.” You tell him. _Wait, no, that’s pretty obvious._ “I think... I think she’s... baking something? She wanted to know if I preferred pumpkin or pecans...”  
He looks as baffled as you feel.  
“...Pumpkins or pecans? She hasn’t made that pie in years...”  
_“So it IS pie!”_  
“...I... I don’t know what to say. This _has_ to be a trick. And if she’s already picking things up... _Oh no..._ ”  
“Is... is something wrong?” You gulp. “Did I... was I too slow?”  
Flowey looks at you, and his gaze softens.  
“...No. I mean, _yes,_ but... if she was planning on baking something for you then she fully intended to have it ready by the time we got there. That means she had this all planned out... There’s no _way_ you could have gotten there before her. I...” He shakes his head. His voice goes quiet. “I’m sorry...”  
“...It’s fine. I...”  
_“It’s not fine!”_ He glares at you through tears. “You wanna know how many humans I’ve tried to save over the years? _All of them._ You wanna know how many made it through the barrier? You wanna know how many made it _home? Not one. Not a single one.”_  
Your stomach drops. You kneel down and reach out to him, but he shakes you off.  
_“Don’t you get it?!_ All this time, I’ve been leading you to your doom! There’s _no chance_ of you getting to the barrier, and there’s _no chance_ of you getting home! You can’t even _cross_ the barrier without a monster soul! You’d have to _murder_ someone to get through! More specifically, you’d have to murder a _boss monster. The King of Monsters. You can’t. You just can’t._ I thought... maybe... I don’t know what I thought! _All I know is that all of the fallen humans, all of them, are dead because of **me.** ”_  
“Flowey...”  
“Don’t call me that! My name is _Asriel!_ And I’m not even a real monster! I’m just... I’m just...!”  
_“Flowey shut the fuck up.”_  
He does. He stares up at you with all the wonder of a child, and you know why.  
He’s probably centuries older than you, but by his own species’ account he can’t be older than ten. He’s just a kid, stuck in this hellish world of _kill or be killed,_ trying desperately to do the right thing.  
You vow to get home safely. Not for your sake, but for his.  
You are filled with... **d e t e r m i n a t i o n.**  
“Look... You want me to call you Asriel? I can call you Asriel. But don’t act like all of this is your fault. I don’t even know what _this, is,_ but I _know_ it’s not your fault. You’re a _kid,_ right? Right?”  
He says nothing, still staring up at you in awe. You take his silence as confirmation.  
“Right. So it _can’t_ be your fault, right? If I die. I’m an adult. I can take care of myself. I’m _supposed_ to take care of myself. If I die down here, it’s because I’m a shitty ass adult who doesn’t know what I’m doing with my life, _not because some kid couldn’t fight off an entire society to protect me._ It’s not your job to do that. It’s not your job to fight wars.”  
He’s crying now, and you aren’t sure if it’s your fault. Awkwardly, hesitantly, you reach out again.  
“Hey... It’s alright... _None of this is your fault.”_  
_“But it is.”_  
And he allows you to comfort him. You shift closer, and he leans into your touch. Tears soak through your pants, regular ones, thank god. You don’t think you could handle anymore acid tears today. You gently rub the back of his head, rubbing your thumb over the stem that attaches there. The tremors of his body don’t cease with the sound of sobbing, and you wait patiently for him to collect himself as you look out at the room before you. You wonder idly if you could explore a little more thoroughly now, since it looks like time isn’t really an issue. You quickly shut that thought down... You can’t do that to him. Not now.  
But there is something you need to know... If only there was a way to bring it up without hurting him any further...  
He sniffs and leans back. He looks terrible, but you aren’t going to tell him that. That stubborn, boyish look is back, and you know he’s trying to be tough as he refuses to meet your eyes. You smile.  
“Hey.”  
“........”  
“Do you... do you prefer Flowey, or Asriel? If you... don’t mind my asking...”  
“.....Flowey.” You don’t expect him to continue, but he does. “Asriel was... my old name. When I was... when I was...”  
“Shhh, hey... You don’t need to tell me right away. I get it. People change. Flowey it is, then.”  
He manages to give you a weak smile, and you feel pride bloom in your chest. You might have actually helped him. You don’t know how, exactly, but you really feel like you’ve made a difference, and that... that only makes you even _more determined_ to reach the surface.  
“You know, just for you, I’m gonna start taking things seriously, from now on! No more puzzling over puzzles! No more lingering at signs! No more playing hide-and-seek with tiny monster frogs! I’m gonna hunker down and get out of here and I’m gonna do it _alive_ and I’m gonna escape the Underground, and I’m taking you with me!”  
“You... can’t do that, you know. Didn’t you hear me? You need a _monster soul_ to cross through the barrier...”  
“Who says I need to cross _through_ it? I’ll bring the whole thing _down_ if I have to, you _are coming with me, you lil cinnamon bun!”_  
He stares at you, and starts to snicker, his face starting to color.  
“...What?”  
_“Cinnamon bun. I called you a cinnamon bun. Because you are._ You’re sweet and precious and I’m not taking no for an answer! A kid like you doesn’t deserve to live in a world like this! _We’re staging a jailbreak, Flow. We’re gonna save you yet.”_  
“...You are _such_ a dork. You know that, don’t you?”  
_“Yes.”_  
You grin, and he grins back. He sniffs.  
“...You know... you can explore the puzzle if you want. Jump in all the holes, see what’s there...”  
“No. No, I couldn’t. We have things to do, remember?”  
“Not anymore. It’s...” He shifts nervously, refusing to look at you. “It’s... _possible,_ for you to get past Toriel... It’s been done before. But...”  
_That’s what I wanted to know._ You’re honestly more relieved that you didn’t have to ask than you are at the prospect that you might live.  
“...You might as well take your time. If... if you _don’t_ make it past her, then...”  
“Don’t talk like that, I’ll definitely get past her! Even if it takes me all of the food in both of our inventories!”  
“Heh. You _would_ have to be kind of a loser to lose with all that. Okay. Fine. So you get past her. But you _still_ have to get past the _rest_ of the Underground, and they won’t be so easy. By comparison, the Ruins are actually pretty _safe._ Might as well collect as much gold as you can while you’re here. You’ll need it later.”  
“...Are you sure it won’t bother you if I...?”  
“Go ahead.” His smile slides into a smirk. “I think I even saw your new boyfriend in one of them. Idiot didn’t even make it out of the Ruins before he went back to sulking.”  
“My new boy- _Oh. Hey!”_ You try to glare at him, but your mouth refuses to frown. “...Where?”  
He laughs. You can’t help but laugh with him.  
_“No, seriously, where?”_  
“Why don’t you go find him?”  
“You cheeky little sunflower!” Your eyes widen. “Wait, does that mean you’re somebody’s...”  
“Don’t say it...”  
_“Son-flower?”_  
_“Oh my god.”_  
You hop to your feet and make your way to the first hole.  
“Welp, time to go find my missing _boyfriend.”_  
“Don’t get _too_ beat up!”  
“I’m just gonna try to comfort him!”  
“That’s what I’m saying!”  
“Are you trying to tell me I’m dating a _sadist?_ You _wound_ me, good sir!”  
You jump into the first hole. All you find at the bottom, aside from a bed of leaves, is a pile of white dust. Flowey pops into view above you.  
“...Oh, yeah. Probably should have mentioned. I already cleared this one out. And the one on the other side is where I found the ribbon.”  
“Gee, thanks for the warning... What’s with the ribbon, anyway?”  
“It’s armor. Monsters won’t hit you as hard if you’re cuter.”  
“Well that seems like discrimination.”  
“Are you seriously trying to tell me humans are any better?”  
“No, but it’s still discrimination!” You consider making a Pokemon joke. You think better of it. He probably wouldn’t get it.  
You manage this vent a little quicker and easier than the last one. These vents might just be larger than the others. Huh.  
The second hole contains the switch. You press it, even though it does nothing. You suppose Toriel must reset the puzzles every day, or maybe they magically reset at a certain time? Either way, the puzzles can only be solved once.  
The third hole doesn’t have anything in it. Flowey smirks at your ruffled appearance, and you stick your tongue out at him. He makes a scary face as he returns the gesture.  
_Still the devil._  
You skip the fourth hole, since you know there isn’t anything there. And you make the mistake of leaping without thinking into the fifth...  
“What... _what the hell, human!”_  
“Hey.” You pose casually on the leaves, like you _didn’t_ just crash through the ceiling and land in a crumpled heap right next to him. His face darkens.  
“Are you... stalking me?!”  
“Yes. Yes I am.” You manage to hold a straight face for all of two seconds before you chuckle. “Nah, man, I’m just trying to solve this puzzle...”  
“No, you’re not. You already fell in the hole with the switch! You think I can’t hear all the ruckus you’re making?”  
You pale, then color. _Wait... How much did he hear?_  
He seems to realize what you’re thinking, and blushes deeper.  
“Whatever,” he grumbles. “Just go back to what you were doing and leave me alone...”  
“So whatcha doin’ down here?” _Yes, change the subject! That isn’t abrupt and obvious at all!_  
“......I... fell.”  
“Oh.”  
“Just go on without me, it’s not like I can die down here or anything... I can’t die. I’m a ghost. I’ve tried.”  
“Oh...” You frown. _How do you comfort a suicidal ghost? He’s already dead... At least you think he is?_  
“Oh.... That’s right.... I’m a ghost... I can fly....” He starts to fade out of existence right before your eyes. “See you in Waterfall, human.... or whatever....”  
“Hey, wait! My name’s not human! It’s (Name)!”  
If he hears you, he doesn’t seem to care. He’s already gone.  
You huff.  
“Well that was rude.”  
“Too bad. I was kinda hoping you’d land right on him. Like in his lap, or something.”  
“Oh, shut up!”  
“Vengeance is sweet.” He grins down at you. You roll your eyes.  
“Point taken. I thought you wanted to _protect_ me, or whatever. What happened to that?”  
“I thought you didn’t need my protection?” He arches an eyebrow at you as you climb in the vent. The metal distorts your reply, making it reverberate. You imagine it sounds tinny and distant to him, although it sounds booming to you.  
“I _don’t,_ but it’s the _thought_ that counts!”  
The last hole. You sigh, and steel yourself for the drop.  
“...You know you don’t _have_ to jump in them all, right? If you don’t want to...”  
“It’s fine. I want to. I’m curious!”  
And you jump.  
And you _find something._  
It looks like a giant carrot... Flowey peers over the lip of the hole and all but pales.  
“Uh, (Name), I wouldn’t...”  
You don’t listen. Of course you don’t. Things would be pretty boring if you did, right?  
The thing erupts from the earth before your fingers even get close, and your soul emerges with it. _Great. Just what I needed right now. I’m already weak from all the falls._  
“I’ve heard humans are a part of a complete breakfast... _is that true?”_  
“I, don’t think I want to find out!”  
The monster cackles softly.  
Carrot-shaped bullets rain down above you. It’s a little hectic, but you actually manage to avoid taking damage!  
“Yeah, I don’t think humans are supposed to be edible... And I _really_ don’t think we’re worth the effort, so if you’re hungry maybe we could...”  
“Plants don’t talk, dummy.”  
“...You just did?”  
Veggie bullets spring to life all around you, and you dive to the ground and pop a candy in your mouth. You grimace. The first one always tastes the worst...  
The carrot monster stops. It stares at you in thought. You take this moment to briefly consider its withered leaves and shrunken body.  
It’s not very appetizing, but... You wonder what its serving size is.  
Somehow you doubt veggie monsters are monitored by the USDA.  
“Are you... hungry?”  
The question pulls you back to the present.  
“Uh... Sure?”  
_“Good!_ Maybe if you’re hungry enough, you won’t think yourself _above_ eating right!” It booms. You narrow your eyes in confusion. Veggies begin to bounce around you again before you can ask. “EAT YOUR GREENS!” It cackles.  
You’re about to argue that none of the bullets are green when one comes along that _is._  
_Oh, I get it!_  
You have to leap through the bullets to get to it, but thankfully you’ve noticed that your soul blinks when damaged, as though it were wavering on the edge of existence. Things don’t hurt so bad when you’re in this state, so you assume your soul is relatively safe when this happens.  
You barely graze the thing with your fingertips, but it’s enough. It disappears, and you actually feel some of the most recent pain ebb. The attack stops.  
“You actually did it... Er... I mean, there now, was that so bad?”  
“Uh... I do feel better now, if that’s what you mean!”  
The creature seems surprised. It’s sad, drooping face brightens.  
“You... like my vegetables?”  
“I... like vegetables?” You don’t have the heart to tell them you can’t taste things with your fingers.  
“Humph... Well! It’s about time someone recognized the _quality_ of our crops! We farm them locally, you know. _Very locally.”_  
“Uh-huh.” _Smile and nod, (Name). Smile and nod._  
The creature grins. It’s unsettling, but you get the feeling that it’s genuinely happy.  
“Good to know that humans have _better taste_ than all the _slobs and ruffians_ down here. It makes me wonder... _if **you** taste better, too. Until next time, human.”_  
_“Uh...”_ But it’s already gone. Before you can even examine the hole, dirt springs back up into place, filling the space where it once was. And atop it all, two shiny gold coins glitter...  
_+4 gold._  
_Total: 14 gold._  
“Well that was disturbing... and also sort of satisfying?”  
“Just get up here! Maybe this IS a bad idea...”  
“Don’t think like that! We just need to get to the next save point, and then I won’t have to use up all of my candies like this!”  
“The next save point is in front of Toriel’s house.”  
“Oh... We’re pretty close, then, aren’t we?”  
“Just one more puzzle.”  
“Huh. Should we... should we go back to the last one?”  
“And risk running into the monsters that are creeping out now that she’s gone? No. If we’re going to do this, we’re going to have to keep moving. Just... wear the ribbon, alright?”  
You look up at him in surprise. Your preferred tactic for dealing with the vents has, thus far, involved a lot of rolling and falling ungracefully to the ground below. You sit up, and finger the ribbon that Flowey has brought you. You frown.  
“Hey... What... NO! No no no no! YOU wear the ribbon! YOU. WEAR. THE RIBBON.”  
“I don’t want the ribbon! It doesn’t match my look anyway!”  
“This isn’t about your vanity! It’s _enchanted,_ it’ll keep you alive!”  
“All the more reason for you to wear it!”  
“(NAME)!”  
_“The cinnamon roll must be protected at all costs!”_  
He manages to slip out of your grasp by ducking underground and popping up out of reach. “Aw, come on! You’d be so _cute!”_  
_“No.”_  
_“Fine.”_ You roll your eyes and tie the ribbon to one belt loop. “Happy?”  
“It actually goes in your hair...”  
“Well, now it goes on my belt.”  
“........” He rolls his eyes. “Who’s the kid here, again? Me or you?”  
“You or _I.”_  
He glares at you.  
“...What? You didn’t think I’d stopped being insufferable? That never stopped being a thing. Now let’s get going! That puzzle ain’t gonna solve itself!”  
“Are you bipolar?”  
“Nah, I don’t think so. I just get a kick out of confusing people. I’m pretty good, aren’t I?”  
“For someone who _stutters_ during battle, sure.”  
_“Hey,_ you try thinking of something to say when someone’s trying to murder you! It’s not easy!”  
“I know...”  
You frown at his half-wilted appearance. _I didn’t mean to upset him..._  
The next room is... odd, to say the least. There are three pillars here, with switches nestled beside them. The blue switch to your right is the most noticeable. You can barely make out the others from where you’re standing. To your left is a sign, right beside a vent. You can actually see three signs from where you’re standing, but the one to your right is unreadable. It appears to be mirrored? _Okay. So only one is readable at a time…_  
_The far door is not an exit. It simply marks a rotation in perspective._  
_This is stupid! You can see all of them when you walk around!_  
_The switches should turn invisible when you walk through the far door!_  
_Yeah! What he said!_  
There’s... some kind of goopy residue smeared on the wall beneath the sign.  
“That’s moldsmal for ‘blurg gurble.’”  
_“Goo_ -d to know.”  
_“Ugh.”_  
“So what was that vegetable monster called?”  
“Believe it or not, Vegetoid.”  
“So, is that like their _species_ or their _name...”_  
Whatever he was going to say is cut off, because a spiky gelatinous creature has begun oozing and wobbling towards you from behind the second pillar. Even as your soul emerges, Flowey relaxes.  
“It’s alone. These things usually don’t want to fight. Should be easy, even for you!”  
And sure enough, white balls drift lazily down as if the Moldsmal were still deciding whether to fight you. They are dodged easily enough, and you find yourself entranced by the sway of its body. You wonder if jiggling is how it talks? You wiggle your hips experimentally.  
It wiggles back.  
What a meaningful conversation!  
“Geez, get a room you two!”  
You eye him quizzically.  
Then, because your soul has returned already, you lie down on the floor. The moldsmal stills. The two of you lie there long enough for the scent of lime gelatin, with a twinge of something sour to it, to settle over you. It seems content.  
“...What are you doing?”  
You only smile.  
Eventually you do have to get up, and you dust yourself off before waving goodbye to your new friend. It wiggles back gently, and starts to slide off in the other direction, leaving a small coin in its wake. Flowey takes it.  
You’re feeling pretty good as you step through the doorway into the next room, only to find yourself... _back in the same room._ The sign to your left is no longer legible.  
You look behind you. All you see are the holes in the floor where you jumped in. You’re a little startled.  
_“Whoa. So that’s what magic’s capable of...”_  
“It is pretty cool,” he admits. He seems proud, and maybe a bit... nostalgic?  
“How old are you?”  
“Huh?”  
“I mean, I know you’re a kid, but you’re older than me from what I gather...”  
“Oh. Yeah... Monsters tend to age differently. Me, I... I don’t age anymore. It’s... it’s a long story. Maybe I’ll tell it to you sometime...”  
“Okay, well... whenever you’re ready, Peter.”  
“...Peter?”  
“Yeah, you know? Peter Pan? Nevermind, I’ll stop.”  
“Isn’t that a movie?”  
“Yeah, you know it?”  
“Not really. I’ve never seen it. But there was a mangled up cover in the dumps once. Of course by then the video tape was crushed and more than a little waterlogged...”  
“Wait... How much do you know about the surface world?”  
“A little? Stuff washes down from there, you know. We aren’t _completely_ ignorant of your culture.”  
“That’s cool... Do you know what Pokemon is?”  
“Is that the thing with the yellow monster with the lightning tail?”  
“Yes!”  
“Then, no.”  
“Aw. Well, at least I didn’t pass up a joke back there.”  
_If you can read this, press the blue switch._  
You’re about to read further, but a cackling startles you and forces you to whirl around as your soul emerges.  
_Not again!_  
This monster looks like a horned Mike Wazowski, although you doubt he’d appreciate being told that. He has one big eye, a mouth full of incredibly sharp teeth, and he stands a little taller than your knees. Still, he’s grinning in a mischievous fashion, and you’re sure he’s going to be trouble.  
“What an ugly creature... Do they not have mirrors on the surface?”  
You start. Even Napstablook had the decency to threaten your life, not your self-esteem!  
“H-hey, that’s not nice!”  
“So? What’re you gonna do about it, human? Can’t handle me picking on you?”  
White rings appear and move towards you on all sides, winding through the air like smoke rings. One of them hits, and you clench your teeth at the pain.  
_Wait. This sounds familiar..._  
_Is he the guy...?_  
“B-but, why would you pick on me, when I haven’t done anything to you?”  
“Don’t try to act innocent. You were thinking it!”  
“All I was thinking was how nice your iris looked!”  
“Uh...” His smile falters. “Don’t... don’t mock me! I’ll pick on you!”  
“No, really! And your horns, they’re very... sharp. You look like a good, strong, fearsome young monster!” Okay. Maybe you are laying it on a little thick. But this guy’s obviously pretty self-conscious and you _really_ don’t want to offend him right now.  
“I... I don’t like being made fun of!”  
“I’m not making fun of you, Sweetie! I’m just very friendly!”  
“My name’s not Sweetie! It’s **Loox!** Loox Eyewalker!”  
_“Omg...”_ You bite back a snicker. This is not the time to crack up!  
_“See?! You’re laughing at me!”_  
“I’m not laughing at you! I just think it’s a cute name!”  
“ **I’m not cute!** ”  
“Look, I’m just trying to be nice! I’m really not trying to offend you at all! I just want to go home!”  
“You can’t go home! Everybody knows that!” He glares up at you. His expression falters. “...So... You really aren’t making fun of me?”  
“No, of course not!”  
“Then... I guess...” He grumbles. “You can... go... or whatever... Here’s 5 gold, sorry to bother you... You looked mean...”  
You did?  
“It’s the bow, isn’t it?”  
Both he and Flowey look up at you in surprise. You managed to say that with a totally straight face, and they aren’t sure if you’re joking or not. But when you start to smile, Flowey groans and the young eyeball monster grins.  
“It’s a vicious bow, I know. I tie very intimidating knots.”  
“Heh. You’re pretty funny... for a human.”  
He gives you two large coins and a small one, and leaves.  
_+5 gold._  
_Total: 19 gold._  
“I’m gonna pay you back yet!”  
Flowey smiles.  
“Good. You’re not allowed to die until you do, okay?”  
“Deal!”  
You backtrack to press the blue switch, then head through the door.  
“So, who’s Peter Pan, anyway?”  
“He’s a kid who can fly and never grows up... You _have_ to watch it, it’s a _classic!_ You can tell because it’s been remade like a dozen times.”  
“Okay? I guess I get the reference now.”  
_If you can read this, press the red switch._  
“So hey, where does my phone go if not into my inventory?”  
“Good question!” He grins. “Cellphones are enchanted differently in the Underground, much like gold, so that monsters can stay connected without having to give up inventory space for it.”  
_He’s so cute when he’s proud of himself!_  
“So I’ve equipped a cellphone?”  
“Kind of.”  
“Next you’re going to tell me... _omg is that what LV is. Do you gain levels for killing people. Is that a thing.”_  
“...Yes? Look, LV and levels are _not_ the same thing, I know it _sounds_ like a video game...”  
“What about EXP?”  
_“...But it’s not._ LV stands for LOVE. And LOVE, itself, is an acronym. But if you make it that far, you’ll find that out. EXP doesn’t mean what you think it means, either. But yes. It exists.”  
“Not sure I believe you about all this _not_ being a video game, but if you say so. Heads up, we got company.”  
“Oh, _no..._ Not one of _them.”_  
“WE ARE LEGION!” Howls a large insect creature, accompanied by another moldsmal. Its pincers click as it cackles. Green saliva glistens between them. It has two sets of clawed arms and one pair of clawed feet, as well as sharp ridges all along its spine and feelers.  
“But... there’s only two of you?”  
“......”  
The moldsmal wiggles excitedly. Is it giggling? You wiggle back.  
“OBEY THE OVERMIND! JOIN THE HORDE!”  
_What does that even mean?_  
Creepy insect bullets, like mosquito-eaters, fly in a column to your left, reappearing upside down on your right. Familiar vague, spiky balls float down, courtesy of the moldsmal. What catches you off-guard is when they _explode,_ but even then you manage to avoid all but one of the tiny spines. It hurts, but you’ve had worse.  
You wiggle your hips again at the moldsmal. It jiggles happily, and starts to leave. Instantly, the insect creature _changes._ Its expression brightens, and it relaxes, swaying to and fro as if listening to some jazzy music.  
Maybe he was just hanging with the wrong crowd?  
“Mmm, yeah! That’s a beat!” It grins, dancing a little harder now.  
“Listening to the beat of the universe?”  
“You know it, baby!” It smirks. “I love being me! Look at these wicked moves! C’mon! Dance! **Dance with me!** ”  
You awkwardly shake your hips. It seems satisfied, and starts literally dancing its way out of the room, following the slime trail left behind by its friend. In their wake, the two of them leave a total of three gold.  
_+3 gold._  
_Total: 22 gold._  
“You took a coin earlier, right?”  
“Yeah, you owe me 24g.”  
“Damn. Two short.”  
“I wouldn’t know.”  
_“I see what you did there~”_  
“Come on, we’re almost there! You feel alright?”  
“I’m fine. A little woozy, but that might be the blood loss.”  
“...Yikes. Well, you _have_ absorbed a lot of healing magic in the past few hours. I’m not surprised you’re experiencing side effects. It _is_ your first day.”  
“So... you mentioned some kind of, presumably magical barrier earlier, right? And I can’t cross through it without a monster soul?”  
“That’s... right.” He sighs. “Powerful souls... linger, after death. Monsters can absorb human souls, and humans can absorb monsters souls, but not their own species. Get it?”  
“I guess? You said I needed a specific soul, though. Tell me about that. Hold on...” You stop at the sign, although you’re pretty sure you know what the next switch is.  
_If you can see this, press the green switch._  
Yep.  
“Okay, go.” You press the green one as he resumes talking.  
“...As, I was saying... Souls linger after death, but only if they’re powerful enough. Humans are... inherently powerful, so they always linger. But monsters... only a few of us are strong enough to do that. The king is one of them.”  
Your eyes light up.  
“And YOU were one of them? That’s SO, COOL! So were you, like, _super strong_ before? Also, what happened to make you lose that? Did... did your power get taken away, somehow?”  
“...Sort of.”  
“So, how many boss monsters are in the Underground, anyway? Does it _have_ to be the king? I mean, I’m not planning on killing anyone, I’m just curious.”  
“You really don’t have a _choice,_ but... one. There’s only one.”  
“...Oh. Are they... super rare?”  
“Well, yeah. They’re _boss_ monsters. Have you ever played a game with _only bosses_ before?”  
“You’re the one who keeps telling me it’s not like a video game! Hold on.” You step back so you can see through the other doorway. You can still see the previous puzzle room. Then you look forward at the new room that opened up before you. “That is. SO. COOL. I love magic. Magic is the _BEST.”_  
“It is pretty handy.”  
“So, where to next?”  
_“Toriel’s is right up there, on the left.”_ His voice drops to a near whisper. You mimic him.  
_“What about straight?”_  
_“Just a balcony overlooking the Ruins.”_  
_“Ooh! Let’s do that!”_  
You sneak across the hallway, over several thick mats of vines that have begun growing directly over the floor. The other end leads into a small room containing a single, trembling froggit.  
“...Oh, thank goodness it’s only you, human! I was afraid Toriel had come back!”  
“Toriel was here?”  
“Yes, I saw her come through that door carrying groceries almost an hour ago. She was cursing and muttering under her breath about something, I couldn’t tell what... I didn’t ask. We’re all too intimidated to talk to her.”  
“Then, if you’re so afraid of her, what are you doing so close to her house?”  
It shivers.  
“I’m on guard duty. Someone is supposed to keep an eye on this door at all times, in case Toriel is in need of assistance when she comes back from her shopping. I am the replacement for her last assistant. Most of us do not last long...”  
You frown.  
“Maybe I could talk to her?”  
It starts.  
“Oh, no no no no! That won’t do! She’d kill us both, for sure!”  
“Relax! I won’t tell her you said anything! I’ll just ask her what you’re doing here, watching that door so intently for. Okay? She’s probably going to try to kill me anyway, so I might as well try, right?”  
“You... would do that? For me? I had heard you were a friendly human, but... truly, the Angel has come at last!” The froggit hops excitedly, and the face on its stomach beams. “By the way... my sister tells me she saw something lying on the ground in the next room... a weapon, of some sort. Perhaps you could use it? I know you probably won’t, but... some monsters will not give up until they have been beaten down. You may need to fight back before they can be spared. Just a thought...”  
“Oh... Thank you! That’s very kind of you, but I’m afraid I don’t _want_ any weapons...”  
Flowey scoffs.  
“If you find an item, take it. I don’t care if you sell the thing later, but it’s better to have it if you need it.”  
“The flower is right, you must be prepared for anything, human! You must make it to the barrier! I’m certain that you can free us!”  
“Thank you! I’ll do my best!”  
“Let’s just go grab that weapon already!”  
_Geez, what’s got him so worked up?_  
You would ask, but you’re quickly distracted by the absolutely _gorgeous_ view!  
“Wow.” You lean over the ledge to better soak up the sights.  
It’s an old, dilapidated city, purple and black and gloomy, but with a hint of its former glory still intact. Though many of its buildings are crumbling, gothic spires cracked or snapped off and littering the edges of walkways in heaps, the damage is quite minimal and even the worst of it has not effaced what was once a crisp and neat little living space. It seems all but deserted, only the faintest flickers of movement visible in the shadows. There is a doorway to one side that probably leads to the streets below.  
“...Yeah, whatever...” Flowey grumbles. You look down at him in surprise.  
“...Need a lift?”  
“Uh... I’m not sure if...”  
“Come on, it’ll be fine! I can dig out a clump a dirt if you like...”  
“No... That, won’t be necessary. Here, I’ll just...” And he shifts and starts pulling away from the earth, roots rising into view for just a moment before thick vines start to grow, allowing him to rise up and start twisting around you. For one brief moment you’re alarmed by the sensation of something snake-like winding its way up to your neck, but you force yourself to remain still until the vines recede and all that remains is a single loop, draped over you like a necklace. His petals tickle your face before he settles in properly on your shoulder.  
“...Huh. It’s been a while... Guess I kinda missed this...”  
“You comfy up there? Not afraid of heights, are you?”  
“Please,” he snorts. “Like you’re tall enough for that.”  
“Don’t make me throw you off!”  
“Yeah, yeah... Grab the knife and let’s get out of here. Maybe if I hide in your hair Toriel won’t even know I’m here...”  
“Oh... uh... I kind of told her I was bringing a friend? Sorry?”  
“Ugh... well... I tend to stay away from her, so hopefully she won’t recognize me...”  
“Do you know each other?”  
“...........”  
“Right. Long story. Tell me when you’re ready.”  
His grip tightens around you when you stoop to pick up the plastic toy knife, watching it disappear from your hands as you do so.  
“Did I just equip that?”  
“Basically.”  
“Cool. Hey, does this mean I’m the hero? Since I’ve got all this gear and a cute little sidekick and everything?”  
_“Hey!_ I could strangle you from here, you know!”  
“Yeah, but you won’t...”  
He grumbles as you walk back through the door. You can practically _feel_ him blushing.  
“Did you collect your weapon, human?”  
“Yes! I did! Thank you very much!”  
“You’re welcome! Good luck, human! And remember... we believe in you!”  
“Thanks!”  
You walk back to the road that leads to Toriel’s, and peer around the corner at a big, black tree. _So that’s where the leaves are coming from... How do they get all the way to the entrance? Does Toriel carry them there? Do... do leaves fit in the inventory as groups, or as individual leaves? That... that sounds horrible... No. She must have bags in there... Do they drift on the wind? Is there any wind down here?_  
“Hey, Flowey?” You whisper. “Why does everyone keep calling me an angel? I get the feeling that means something?”  
“It does,” he sighs back quietly. His breath tickles your ear. You wonder if it’s made of oxygen instead of carbon dioxide. “There are signs in Waterfall you can read about it... An ancient legend, about an Angel who will descend from the surface and deliver us to our freedom. But that’s just a myth... And besides, you don’t want to break the barrier anyway.”  
“Why not?”  
“Monsters are... monsters aren’t exactly friendly towards humans, in case you haven’t noticed. We’re not even kind to each other, what makes you think we could handle living with your kind? Especially after... what happened a long time ago. It’s really not so bad living down here, it’s... for the best. But you... you belong on the surface. The surface is your home. And you need to go back there. You don’t belong down here. It’s not safe.”  
“Hmm...” You aren’t sure how to feel about that. He sounds awfully pessimistic about his people, and you can’t help but agree with most of it. Still, maybe if monsters had a little time to get used to humans before they moved to the surface? What if they got used to you? Surely they wouldn’t attack on sight then? This had to be a learned behavior, and speaking of...  
But you can’t. Not yet. You have a feeling there’s a lot that relates to that, that Flowey isn’t ready to talk about yet, and you don’t want to push him.  
“Alright... This is it. Are you ready, human?”  
“As I’ll ever be, Boss!”  
He nods.  
_“Then let’s not keep her waiting.”_  
You breathe deeply, and walk out around the corner. As you approach the gnarled trunk of the tree and the sea of red leaves around it, like so many droplets of blood, a house becomes visible just beyond it. It’s... surprisingly neat, despite the desolation it’s nestled in, built right into the stone. It looks a little bit like the entrance to the Ruins, which you suppose makes sense, given it should function as the exit. There are lights on inside, which is the only reason you know it’s a house and not just another gateway or door.  
Toriel is there, hastily nudging the already immaculate leaves back into place in their flowerbed formations beneath her windows. All you can think about is how tense she looks, and how her horns look so small from this angle. You wonder briefly if female goats are even supposed to have horns...  
Then she turns around, cellphone in hand.  
“Oh! _There you are! I was beginning to think you weren’t coming after all...”_  
“N-nope, still coming! Here I am! Hehehh.”  
Her gaze locks onto Flowey, who is indeed trying to hide behind your hair. His vines are constricting around your throat, but you don’t want to call him out with company. You simply smile and tilt your head to catch her gaze, trying to draw her attention back to you.  
“So, hey... what’s that _delicious_ smell?”  
“Hm? Ah! That would be my _surprise_ for you, my... er... _my guest!_ Please, come inside... but first... This, wouldn’t happen to be your... _friend,_ would it?”  
“Yes, this is him. He’s been very _nice_ to me, and I _hope you’ll do the same.”_  
“Of... course!” Her mouth twitches. “You’re... sure you’re alright with him...? Alright. Please... do come in.”  
Toriel leads you inside, and you’re shocked at how neat and tidy and... _unbroken_ everything is. What with the crumbling of the walls outside, you had assumed there would at least be cracks in these, but no. Her home is as immaculate as the leaves outside. Dark brown, paneled wood floors harmonize with grey walls, and contrast with the deep, almost maroon red that frames two mirrors opposite the door. There is also a black bookcase in the far right corner, and a nightstand on the far left, on which sits an ornate, red and black vase, with dull gold flowers placed inside. They look like they’re dying... There is a white wall sconce beside the bookcase, and railings block off a set of stairs leading downwards from beside it.  
That must lead to the exit that Flowey mentioned earlier.  
“So, as you’ve probably guessed... surprise! I have made you a pumpkin and pecan pie, to celebrate your success! Congratulations, on making it through the Ruins! Now... let’s see here...”  
Once again, talons grasp your face and pull you near. Her eyes flicker from you to Flowey, and widen.  
“No LV... you did it. You actually did it... You made it _all the way here_ without hurting a single person...”  
“Not true! I hurt me. I hurt me a _lot.”_  
“You _got_ yourself hurt a lot.” Flowey corrects quietly, before pressing himself closer against your skull. You sniff.  
“Hey, is something burning?”  
“Ah! Y-yes, well... please, make yourself at home, and... the first room down the hall, if you want it... it’s yours... please, rest, and... I will be right back...”  
She runs off towards the left, and you turn towards the right.  
“What are you doing?” Flowey hisses in your ear. “Downstairs, hurry! While she’s still distracted!”  
“I’m _tired,_ Flowey. If there’s a chance that I might get to rest here tonight, wouldn’t that be better than to collapse outside?”  
He doesn’t answer as you walk down a dark golden hallway and stop at the first door, passing another wall sconce as you do so.  
“Besides... she made us pie! I know you don’t trust her, but hey... maybe... for just one night...?”  
“This isn’t right,” he murmurs as you open the door. “She’s not usually like this. Some of them she killed almost on _sight,_ I don’t... Was that dumb pun really all it took? I don’t understand.”  
“So you heard my pirate pun?”  
“That... _that’s_ what you’re worried about? Seriously? She could kill you in your sleep, or, or poison you, or something!”  
“Sure. But I’ve got you here to protect me! Oh, wait... We probably should have stopped by that save point outside... You think she’d get the wrong idea if I...?”  
“Definitely. It’s too late now. You were right before, we’ve got a lot of candy between us and some spider products, that’s a lot of healing power on our side. With luck, we’ll survive even a full-on chase, if it comes to that. But still... why tempt fate?”  
“Wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”  
“My point exactly.”  
You admire the room Toriel has just offered you. The walls are a familiar red, like you saw in the first room, and the floor is grey and covered in a large floor rug, an ornate pattern knit in black and white laid out next to a small bed and a toy-box. Was this a child’s room?  
“Did she have kids?”  
“...Yes. Two. They’re... they’re both gone now.”  
“What do you mean, gone? Like, gone, or _gone_ gone?”  
_“Gone_ gone. As in, dust... _Poof.”_  
“Dust?”  
“Er... When, monsters...”  
“Wait, how old is Toriel?”  
“Oh...” He relaxes visibly. “Pretty old, I guess. She’s been around since... well, suffice it to say she was here when the Ruins were built.”  
_“Wow._ And how long ago was that?”  
“Like a thousand years.”  
“Is that an exaggeration or has it _actually been_ a thousand years?”  
“So!” Toriel appears in the doorway, clasping her hands together and smiling widely. Too widely. “How do you like it? I know it’s a little small, but... most of the humans who... fell, were much... smaller, than you.”  
“I can see that... Luckily, I am not a very large person! I think I’ll be okay for now. Thank you.”  
Having been in the process of wringing her hands, she stops. Her smile seems more genuine now, and some of the tension in her shoulders seems to relax.  
“No, thank you... It has... been a long time, since I last had company. I’m sorry if I... have scared you, or given you cause for concern earlier today. It’s just... normally I...”  
“It’s fine,” you interrupt, noticing her body language begin to shift. “I’ve met my fair share of monsters on my way here. I think I know what you’re getting at. I’m curious to know _why_ monsters seem to attack humans so readily, but I assume it’s a cultural thing and I’m not going to judge you for that. At least, not until I know _why._ You must have a reason for it, right? I mean, I guess to a society of monsters, I must be... kind of weird and a little frightening, right? I’m sure if any humans caught a monster walking around in their midst... well... It actually might be worse if the roles were reversed. If anything, I think that says something _good_ about monsters.”  
You bite back whatever else you were going to say, aware that you’ve been talking for an inordinate amount of time. Toriel stares at you, and Flowey continues to avoid her gaze. You could almost forget he was even alive, if the vines around your neck weren’t squeezing and trembling as they were.  
“Ah... I did not mean to stare... The pie is finished, but you will have to wait a bit while it cools. Is that alright?”  
“That’s fine. I was just looking around!”  
“You are free to do so, but please... Do not go downstairs. _If you do... well.”_ Her grin is unsettling, but it gets her point across.  
“Understood.”  
_“Excellent.”_  
She leaves, and you continue to examine the room. There’s a very nice wardrobe, made of dark wood and filled with striped shirts and other clothes, all of which are way too small for you. There is a shelf with an empty photo frame and some paper atop it. It looks like the work of a child... scribblings and drawings of a variety of topics. Beside that is a chest filled with an assortment of shoe sizes. None of them even come close to fitting you.  
“Flowey.”  
“Hm?”  
“How many _adults_ have fallen?”  
“...None.”  
You nod silently. You figured as much.  
One picture, of a golden flower, is actually taped to the wall, one corner beginning to peel. It looks really, really old, and Flowey shifts uncomfortably as you lean forward to get a better look.  
“H-hey, you wanted to rest, right?” He starts to physically lean towards the opposite side of the room, but it’s too late... you’ve already seen it.  
A tiny “by Asriel,” written in the bottom right corner of the page.  
“Was this _your_ room?” You blurt out, but quickly realize your mistake. “I mean, I guess a lot of kids have stayed here, huh? But I would think she’d recognize you, if you... Hm. You know what, it doesn’t matter. None of this makes sense to me, but if you don’t want to tell me, you don’t want to tell me, and that’s fine. I’m going to check out the rest of the house and get something to eat. Do you wanna... I mean, are you sure you’re okay without soil, or...?”  
“I’m fine,” he says quietly. You can’t tell if he’s relieved or tired so you try to refocus on your surroundings.  
_Phew. That was close._  
You can tell the kid has been through some pretty rough stuff, and his past with Toriel seems shady at best, but you don’t want to pressure him into talking about it before he’s ready. He’s probably dealt with some things that kids should never have to deal with, and you doubt it’s the sort of thing one opens up about easily. Not to mention, you’re far too tired, emotionally and physically, to deal with a second breakdown today. So you’d just as soon avoid making him more uneasy than he already is. And as long as he’s hanging around your neck, you find yourself getting strangled every time he gets upset. That’s no good.  
“Hey, could you move down to my arm or something?”  
“I’m not choking you, am I?”  
“No, but... as a precaution? If that’s alright with you?”  
“...Sure...”  
The vines move down to loop around your arm, but his face remains huddled up by your hair. You smile.  
“Much better. Thank you!”  
There are two lamps in this room, with sharply angled lampshades that remind you of bat wings. There’s a stand-alone in the corner by the bed, and one on an end table beside you, which is the one actively lighting the room. You consider turning it out before you leave, but you’ve done enough stumbling in the dark for one day. You leave the room.  
“Are these cattails? Are there ponds down here? Or... lakes? Underground lakes are a thing, right?”  
“We have salt _and_ freshwater down here, so yes. And they’re actually water sausages. They’re called ‘Typha.’”  
“Do you know a lot about plants?” You ask, carefully fingering the spines of the potted cactus seated beside the Typha, on a small end table. The bulletin board above it is littered with notes. The graphite and ink has faded with age, but you can still make most of it out. It all seems pretty ordinary... An old shopping list, a recipe for snail pie, _(oh, gross!)_ a chore chart, a schedule... Some of the events sound a little dangerous... All of them have been scratched out and replaced with other things. Sometimes those things have also been replaced. _Sparring_ becomes _Self Defense_ becomes _Cooking Lessons._ And finally, a large list of house rules. _Be respectful. Be honest. Be polite. No whining. No roughhousing. (If you break anything you will be punished!) Don’t talk to strangers. Don’t wander off. Don’t ask stupid questions. Don’t go downstairs._  
_Wait, what?_  
You try not to think of the implications of those last two as you pull open the drawer. Inside are a collection of seed packets and crayons that have been sharpened down into tiny shanks.  
_Hopefully that’s just for fine detail..._  
“Hardly. What are you looking for, anyway?”  
“Nothing, really. Just checking things out. It’s the Underground! Who _knows_ what I might find!”  
You shut the drawer and move towards another door.  
“Uh, that’s... Toriel’s room. I wouldn’t snoop around in there...”  
“Relax, I’m just _exploring.”_ You step inside. The room is a deep blue, and a very large and impressive cactus dominates the bottom right corner of the room. “Wow, you could _kill_ a man with that thing...”  
“Ah, yes... the cactus. Truly the most tsundere of plants.”  
You have to brace yourself against her desk as you shudder with laughter.  
“That was... that was _great,_ where did... how did you come _up_ with that one?”  
He flushes.  
“Ah... It’s just... something my Mom used to say...”  
“Oh.” You would ask more, but the way his face closes up tells you this is probably a sore topic. You clear your throat. “Wow, she sure does like cacti... Hey, what’s this?”  
There’s a book laying open on the desk, with a passage in it circled in red. It looks like... her diary?  
“It’s filled with jokes!” You grin. “’Why can’t you trust atoms?’”  
“Because they make up everything. Can we just...”  
“Aw, that’s no fun! Let’s see, how about this circled one... ‘Why did Brenda stop screaming? Because she was dead!’ _Huh._ That’s pretty dark... I mean, clever, but... wow.”  
I don’t understand you. You won’t hurt anyone because it’s ‘wrong,’ but you’ll laugh when other people joke about it?”  
“I can have a dark sense of humor and morals! The two are not mutually exclusive!”  
“Are you sure about that?”  
“Hey, if laughing at dark jokes keeps me from acting them out, then so be it. I never said my coping mechanisms were healthy. Were you really expecting the person who climbed a haunted mountain alone to be 100% sane?”  
“...They think it’s haunted?”  
“Well I mean...”  
“Granted, but they really think _that’s_ why people never come back?”  
“Well presumably anyone who found them and tried to rescue them would get stuck this side of the barrier themselves, so...  
“True...”  
“Is it? I mean, I guess if it wasn’t you’d have gotten out by now…”  
“Exactly. It’s like a sphere all around us. You can’t fly over it, and you can’t tunnel under it. Believe me, if that were possible we wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”  
“Alright. So... is it too much to ask how it _got_ there?”  
“The barrier? No, that’s... it’s a long story, but... Actually, there should be some books lying around that explain that. Why don’t you take a look?”  
You hum as you thumb through the contents of Toriel’s bookshelf. You pull out an encyclopedia of subterranean plants on a whim. You flip to a random page in the middle. “Whoa, hey. I didn’t even mean to do that.” You show him the page you’ve turned to, which displays the plants out in the hallway. ‘“Typha” – A group of wetland flowering plants with brown, oblong seedpods. Known more commonly as ‘water sausages.’”  
“I told you!”  
“So you did.”  
“Have I ever lead you astray?” His grin falters after a moment, and he opens his mouth to speak. You cut him off.  
“Nope! Not at all! You’re totally right, everything you’ve said thus far has been spot on and that’s why I’m still alive. So thanks for that.”  
He mumbles something that might have been “don’t mention it,” as you put the book back and pull out a cookbook that specializes in dishes made from... insects? _Ew._ But no history books. At least, none that seem relevant to what you’re looking for.  
As you head for the door, you happen to glance into what you assumed was a trash can the first time around.  
It’s a bucket of snails.  
_What the fuck._  
You suddenly think about the cookbook you just replaced.  
Flowey chuckles.  
“What’s with that face? Wouldn’t you just _love_ a nice, steaming slice of snail pie?”  
You look at him. He’s making that terrifying, toothy face at you again. You purposely exaggerate your disgust, and he laughs quietly.  
“...Hey, (Name). How old are you?”  
“That’s a bit rude to ask, don’t you think?” You arch an eyebrow, then tell him.  
“So... you _could,_ conceivably, have children on the surface?”  
“It’s _possible,_ but no. None of my own, at least. I did like babysitting though. I like kids. They’re sweet.”  
“Do you make them with extra sugar?” He smirks.  
“No, too much sugar spoils the meat. You want to marinate them in apple juice first, _that’s_ where the sugar comes from.”  
“.....” He stares at you in surprise before snickering.  
You walk on to the last room in the hallway, but the way is blocked by a sign.  
_“Room under renovations.”_  
_Must be the bathroom,_ you think.  
There’s a mirror at the end of the hallway, and you take a moment to examine yourself in it. You look… pretty terrible, alright! You’re dusty and dirty and covered with faint bruises and shallow cuts. Your clothes are filthy, and sliced open even where your injuries _have_ been healed. Your hair is tangled and gritty with dirt and leaves. You pluck one out and examine the veins on its underside.  
All in all, you look like you just stumbled out of a fight in a cartoon. But you suppose you could be worse.  
You can’t resist any longer. You follow the scent of pie towards the kitchen.  
This leads you into a living room, with a large table decorated with a small cluster of three cacti, all in bloom. There’s also a nice, brick fireplace, which Toriel sits in front of in a recliner. She’s watching the doorway when you walk in, so you assume she heard you coming. There’s a book in her hands.  
“Hi,” you start, shyly.  
“Was the house to your liking?”  
“O-of course! But, ah... just for future reference... where’s the bathroom?”  
She blinks.  
“Fufufu~” She tries to hide behind one furred paw. You frown, confused.  
“Uh... What’s so...?”  
“I’m sorry, it’s just... Human food is _different_ from monster food. Monster food is made out of magic, which is absorbed by the body. Therefore, we don’t _need_ bathrooms.”  
“But... What happens if, say, a human falls down here and has to go?”  
“Ah... that’s...”  
“Probably bury it where the _bodies_ are kept... if they aren’t _dead_ already...” Flowey mutters. Toriel’s eyes darken, and flames flicker around her fists.  
_The scorch marks..._  
_No. There must be some other monster in the Ruins with fire magic! There just has to be!_  
“And what is _that_ supposed to mean? Need I remind you that you are a _guest_ in my home? _Weeds_ should not presume to know better than their _elders.”_  
Flowey shudders, but doesn’t speak. His grip tightens around your arm.  
“Hey, that’s not very nice either... He is your guest, you know. And my _good friend.”_ You say, hoping to defuse the situation before Flowey becomes a living tourniquet. You like having feeling in your arms! Feelings are good things to have! Most of the time, anyway. “Hey, is the pie ready? What are you reading?”  
She blinks again, the flames disappearing from her hands. You notice that there are faint scorch marks around the edges of the pages. You faintly recall similar marks on the books in her bedroom, although you hadn’t given them much thought. Seems ignoring fire damage is becoming a habit for you today.  
“The pie is still a bit too warm. Perhaps you’d like to take this time to rest? If not, maybe you’d like to hear a passage from this? It’s called ‘72 Uses for Snails.’ How about it?”  
“Sure! Let’s hear it.”  
“Alright. Here is an exciting snail fact... Did you know, that snails... make terrible shoelaces?”  
You laugh.  
“Or how about this? Did you know, that snails... have a chainsaw-like tongue called a radula?”  
“For scraping at leaves, right?”  
“Mmhm. How about... Did you know, that snails... sometimes flip their digestive systems as they mature?”  
“No, I did not! That is certainly interesting! Although, the thought of my organs moving around as I grow up... is _stomach turning.”_  
“Fffheheheh. Well, did you know, that snails... talk... really... slowly?”  
“Really?” _Are there snail monsters? Do they... do they **eat** them?_  
“Of course not, idiot! Snails don’t talk!”  
“Ahhh... Ya got me!”  
“Hahah... I haven’t laughed like this in... It’s been a long time. Thank you, (Name). It really has been nice... having a guest, like old times.”  
“Did you use to have more visitors?”  
“No. Not many, and never more than one at a time. But there were... a few other humans, over the years...”  
“I know. I’ve heard.”  
“Then... you know what has become of them.”  
“Yeah. But again... I figure there’s a reason for all of that, right?”  
“.......”  
She stares into the fire. But before you can speak again, she closes her eyes and does so herself.  
“A long time ago, humans and monsters lived in peace together, on the surface. But the humans were afraid of us, and humans attack what they do not understand. We were fierce, and we had magic on our side... but the human soul is a powerful thing. Especially when cornered. We were eventually defeated, and driven here.” She gestured to the bookshelf in the top right corner of the room. “There is a book about our history over there. You might glance through it, if you’re curious. But suffice it to say... as far as monsters are concerned, we are still at war. You are one of them. You are the enemy. _You did this to us.”_  
Your throat suddenly feels dry. It makes it hard to swallow. You wish you could think of what to say.  
“Do not be afraid.” Her gaze softens, and her claws, which had embedded themselves in the armrests of her chair, relax. _“You,_ specifically, are not an enemy to us. You have been kind, you have shown mercy... as far as I am concerned, you are not a human at all.”  
“Thank... you?”  
“The people of the Ruins will get used to you eventually... Word has already spread of your kindness. It won’t be long before they stop attacking you. You are safe here. _I will make sure of it.”_  
_And what if I leave the Ruins?_  
You decide not to say that out loud.  
Instead, with nothing else to say, you stand up. Toriel says nothing as you walk over to the bookshelf in the corner. Beside it is a rack of fire pokers. The ends have been filed into sharp points.  
“It’s called _‘History of the Underground.’”_  
You murmur a quiet “ _thanks_ ” as you pull the book from its place and open it up.  
_On the Great War and the History of our great nation..._ It begins. You don’t even bother to sit down as you read. Flowey shuffles nervously.  
_Trapped behind the barrier and wary of further human attacks, we retreated. Far into the earth we walked, until we reached the cavern’s end. This was our new home, which we named... “Home.”_  
_As fearsome as our king is, he is pretty lousy at names._  
You almost smile, but the mental image of monsters, in the hundreds, maybe thousands, filing to the end of this cavern, dejected, angry, and frightened, fills your mind. You are filled with a guilty indignation... You’re not sure why. _You_ didn’t perform this atrocity... and certainly no one would be cruel enough in today’s world to...?  
You wince internally. They would. You know they would.  
_I guess some things never change..._  
Toriel makes a short, happy humming sound, and you look up to see her smiling gently at you.  
“You look as _disgusted_ as we felt.”  
“I’m... It’s just...” You sigh. No point beating around the bush. “I wish I could say that we’ve _changed_ since then, that we’ve _learned_ from our past mistakes, but...”  
“But you _can’t.”_  
You can only nod. Her claws flex dangerously, scratching at the armrest, but her anger is not directed at you. She’s staring off into the distance, nodding, lost in thought. When she meets your gaze again she is calm.  
“Why did you come here?”  
You’re silent. What can you possibly say to that?  
“It’s alright,” she sighs. “I can guess. I’ve heard it all, by now... everything from adventure to suicide. Your reason is unimportant... you are here now, and that is all that matters.”  
You sit crossed-legged on the floor by the fire. It’s warm, but not unbearably so. In fact, as you inch your hand closer and closer to the flames, you realize that they aren’t burning you. _Magic._  
“...You know, I came _this_ close to killing you.”  
The vines tighten. Your arm goes numb.  
“When I saw you there, through the doorway... I was completely prepared to ambush you. It’s been... a long time, since I’ve seen an _adult_ down here... It’s been a while since I’ve seen _anyone,_ for that matter. It’s been years since the last human fell... Perhaps that is why I... hesitated.” She doesn’t look at you. She is watching the flames flicker. “I am glad that I did.” Her mouth twitches. “Your pun was _invigoratingly_ awful.”  
“Glad to be of service.”  
She snorts. The vines relax. Your arm tingles.  
“Sit down at the table, human. I will fetch you your pie.”  
You do as she asks. You smile reassuringly at Flowey. He’s looking a little paler than usual... In a somewhat different way than he’s been since the start of this encounter. He looks... almost ill. You frown. Before you can ask, Toriel returns from the far door, carrying two slices of pie. She sets them both in front of you.  
“For your... friend,” she explains, with obvious distaste. “He looks like he needs it.”  
She wrings her hands as you lift a forkful of pie to your mouth.  
“Careful, it’s hot!”  
You blow a little before carefully, hesitantly, taking a bite.  
“This is _really_ good,” you mumble around a mouthful of pumpkin and pecans. And aside from being a bit burnt, it is.  
“I apologize... It has been so long since I last baked anything like this... I’m a bit rusty, I suppose.”  
“I’m not sure how a lack of baking has caused you to oxidize, but your baking is fine. I imagine you just got distracted by the sudden arrival of guests. Happens to the best of us!”  
Her smile is strained.  
“And you? Will you not eat? _After I went to all the trouble of making this for you...”_  
_And just when the tingling had stopped, too!_  
“I... don’t have arms.” Flowey grins shakily. “Too bad... More for the human, I guess!”  
_“Oh, no. That will not do. I will have to feed you myself if you-“_  
“I’ll do it.” You swallow a little too quickly in your haste to intervene, and your eyes water. “I’m closer anyway. Leave it to me!” You greedily stuff more pie in your face. _God I needed this. Candy is not a proper meal._  
_...And this is? Well. It has pecans in it. Nuts are good for you, right?_  
“Very well. But make sure he eats it all... I do not want my work to go to waste!”  
That sounds a little ominous, but it’s a little late now. If the pie is drugged, well, you had a good run. At least Flowey might be able to escape... He can go through this floor, right? You sure hope so...  
“So, are there stores in the Ruins? I know there’s a bake sale, but I don’t know if there are permanent shops or just, street vendors, or...?”  
_Gotta keep the conversation rolling._  
“Oh, of course! Most monsters moved back towards the entrance of the Underground a long time ago... Anger has a way of overcoming _fear_ and cowardice... I myself lived in New Home for a while... That is a settlement on the other end of the caverns. But I returned here after... some _disagreements_ with the _inhabitants.”_  
You hum. It’s the closest you can get to an answer at the moment. _Wow I’m hungry. How long have I been like this? When was the last time I ate?_  
“You have collected some gold, haven’t you? It’s customary for monsters to pay tribute to those who spare their lives... and I hear you have done quite a bit of that.”  
“Mhmm.”  
_“Excellent._ I won’t make you pay rent, but I expect you to _work_ for your place here, understand? Caring for the Ruins is a very time-consuming task, and I cannot babysit you as I do it. Two hands lighten the load... Perhaps with your help, and the extra gold, we could even... _make repairs.”_  
It’s nice to see her so excited. Makes you feel better about this pie, too!  
“That’d be nice. I’m sure this place was a grand sight back in its day. But...”  
_“Hmm?”_ Her face darkens. You begin to feel nervous...  
“Ah... I’m really not sure if I’m... _up to the task._ I’m not sure I even, _know_ how to fix all of the...”  
“Oh, don’t worry about that!” Toriel waves dismissively as she turns back to her chair by the fire. “You just enjoy your pie, rest up, and I’ll handle the rest! We can discuss this further in the morning. You really should be getting to bed... Your journey has obviously taken its toll.”  
“Oh, I’m fine, really...”  
_“Nonsense.”_  
You push your plate away and use Flowey’s fork to cut a bite from his slice. You hold it up to him. He hesitates, and finally allows you to feed him. He grumbles, but his face visibly brightens, and his body starts to relax. Toriel picks up her book, satisfied.  
“So... There was a froggit, watching the door just past here... What’s that all about?”  
Toriel glances at you, but doesn’t put down the book.  
“I like to have a little help when I come back from a long day of shopping. Groceries can get quite heavy, you know. Especially when walking up stairs.”  
“I hear you, I hear you. But why’s it just... standing there?”  
“It is waiting.”  
“But you just got back.”  
“Yes.” She sets the book down in her lap. “Is there any reason in particular that you bring this up, human?”  
“W-well... it just... looked rather scared... but competent! Very competent. I just thought...”  
“It asked you to speak with me, didn’t it.”  
“N-no! N-no, not at all! I-it, it actually asked me NOT to, but I thought... It seemed like it was working pretty hard, and I just thought... that... maybe... you could, go a little easy on it, you know? It doesn’t hurt to be, a little nicer. N-not that you’re not nice! But... _you know.”_  
“...I see. You’re asking me not to kill it.”  
You breathe a sigh of relief.  
“...Yes. Basically.”  
“Very well. If it does its job, it will live.”  
“...Thanks.”  
She nods, and returns to reading, somewhat more annoyed than before. You cut another bite of pie for Flowey as your heartbeat begins to slow. That could have gone better, but it could also have gone a LOT worse. Flowey hums appreciatively as he chews.  
Not much else is said as he eats, but when you’re done Toriel is standing over you again.  
“Rest. You will feel better.”  
You stifle a yawn.  
“Are you sure? How late is it? I could stand to stay up for a little while lon-”  
_“Do not make me knock you out. Your health is not so low I would not try.”_  
“R-right, yes Ma’am.”  
“Call me Toriel.”  
_What about Tori?_  
_...I’m so glad I didn’t say that out loud._  
“Are you really going to go through with this?” Flowey hisses as soon as you exit the room. You can’t shake the feeling that those two were up to something while you were reading, but you attribute his nerves to being in the same room as her for a prolonged period of time. In retrospect, maybe you should’ve left him in the bedroom, after all.  
“Flowey, how many humans have fallen into the Underground?”  
“Almost a dozen. Why?”  
“And how many of them made it past Toriel?”  
“...Six.”  
“So, half.”  
“More than half,” he admits.  
“And yet, Toriel is alive... So how did they get past her? They didn’t all have to sneak, did they?”  
“...No. She... she’s actually done this before. But it’s been so long, and she’s been killing them on sight for _years...”_  
“People change. Maybe she’s lonely? I would be.”  
He says nothing as you walk back to the bedroom and sit down on the edge of the bed.  
“Now... how are we gonna do this?”  
His petals shift nervously.  
“I could... sleep on the floor, or... those plushies are pretty big. I would fit on one.”  
He’s referring to the two large plushies tucked up between the bed and the wall. You’re mulling things over in your head when Toriel comes in with a glass of water.  
_Wow, I’m parched!_  
“Thanks! I didn’t know I needed this!”  
“Doesn’t everyone enjoy a good glass of water or milk before bed? Especially after eating! Hm... Your _friend_ doesn’t look so good there. Did he not _enjoy_ my cooking?”  
“Hm?” You look down in surprise. Sure enough, Flowey looks almost sick to his stomach. His breathing is a little quick and shallow, and he looks tired. “Are you alright?”  
“Fine.” He says in a tiny voice. You frown.  
“Would... you like some water?”  
“Would you like me to fetch him a _pot_ or a _vase_ to pour it in?” She smirks. You light up.  
“That would be great, actually! Maybe you’ll feel better in the dirt.” You smile down at him. He looks equal parts panicked and indignant.  
“I don’t need a _flowerpot.”_  
_“Snrk._ Are you sure? You could always stay outside, instead. I don’t need your _dust_ all over my carpet in the morning.”  
“I’ll be _fine.”_ He growls.  
“Dust?”  
Toriel looks at your bewildered face and snickers.  
“All in due time. For now... would you like me to fetch something for him, just to be sure?”  
“Yes, thank you.”  
“Ohoho~”  
“I don’t _need_ it, I’m _fine.”_ He grumbles as soon as she disappears.  
“I know, I just want you to feel better! You’re a plant, maybe it’ll help.”  
“It’s _demeaning!”_  
“I’m sorry, but if you want to stay inside, you don’t have much of a choice!”  
“...Hmph.”  
“Oh, don’t _pout.”_  
“I’m not _pouting.”_  
“Brooding, then?”  
“Don’t patronize me!”  
“Hey now, no need to be _prickly...”_  
“Please tell me... that’s not a...”  
“Who stuck _hawthorn_ in your side?”  
_“Please don’t...”_  
_“Oak_ -ay, I’ll stop. You don’t have to _pine.”_  
_“Ughhh.”_  
“Hey. Hey, Flowey. I just had an idea.”  
“Please spare me...”  
“On how to get past the barrier.”  
“...Yeah?”  
“We dig a _fennel.”_  
_“Oh my god.”_  
_“Juniper_ enjoy my jokes. You’re always _nettling_ me. I think it’s about _thyme_ you show me some _clove.”_ Never mind the fact that’s not how ‘clove’ is pronounced, you’re on a roll!  
_“I knew it. I’m in Hell.”_  
“They’re right, you know,” Toriel snickers as she appears in the doorway. “You really _lilac_ respect for your _alders.”_  
Flowey’s face is the very picture of internal screaming.  
Toriel hands you a small flowerpot that looks like it was hand-painted by a child. The picture appears to be some scene in which a monster stands over a small white smudge and cries. At least, you think those are tears... You’re _reasonably_ certain that’s a _face_ those blue lines are running from...  
The soil inside is already moist. Flowey eyes it suspiciously. Finally, reluctantly, he pulls away from your arm and settles into the pot.  
“Is there anything else you need?”  
“No, thank you. I think we can take it from here.” You smile.  
“You know where to find me.”  
“Are you _really_ sure about this?”  
“Look, if you’re that worried, then you don’t have to sleep. But we have a long day tomorrow! I’m sure it will be fine. Wouldn’t she have killed me by now if she wanted me dead?”  
“I still don’t like it...”  
“Then keep watch. We’ll take turns, okay? Just wake me up when you’re ready to switch.”  
You have to fold up your legs, but you manage to fit on the tiny bed. You curl yourself around the pot and hold Flowey close.  
“Damn... I forgot about the light...”  
“I’ll get it.”  
You blink one eye open, confused. Sure enough, a vine is stretching out across the room. You’re about to ask if he can’t reach out the front door like that, if he needs soil that badly, but everything starts to go hazy. A day full of adrenaline and physical activity has finally caught up with you. You lose yourself to sleep.  
.............  
“Hey.”  
You feel cold. You curl up tighter.  
“Hey.”  
Something prods your face.  
“Mmn...” You bury your face against a hard, warm surface.  
“Hey, Masochist, wake up!”  
You remember where you are, but make no effort to move.  
“Noooo...”  
“Come on, get up!”  
“I don’ wanna.”  
“Come on, it’s morning, you have to get up! We have to-“  
You start up.  
“Morning?!”  
He looks less exhausted than you’d feared. You hope that means he got a least _some_ sleep last night.  
“Why didn’t you wake me up?!”  
“You were sleeping. I thought I’d let you rest.” He shrugs. “Look, we have to get going. Toriel’s gone to make breakfast, if we hurry we can sneak downstairs before she knows you’re awake.”  
“But...”  
“I’ll be _fine._ You’re doing all the heavy lifting, remember?” As he speaks, he begins to pull away from the pot and lace his vines around your arm again.  
“You... don’t want to keep the pot?”  
“Forget the crummy pot,” he growls. “It’s stupid anyway. Let’s just go.”  
“We can’t just leave Toriel like this...”  
_“Yes, we can._ Look, I _know_ you’ve got this whole, _nice_ thing going on, but this is getting _dangerous._ Who knows when you’ll get another chance like this? It’s best for everyone if you just keep moving. Don’t prolong it any longer... you’ll just hurt her worse.”  
“.....” You hate to admit it, but he might have a point there... “Alright. How long ago did she start breakfast?”  
“I woke you as soon as she passed out of earshot, so she’s probably just getting started. As long as she doesn’t come to check up on us, we should have more than enough time to get out before she knows what’s happening.”  
You carefully extract yourself from the bed. It creaks in protest, but hopefully Toriel’s ears aren’t much stronger than yours. And if they are, hopefully the sounds of the kitchen will drown you out. You creep to the door and press your ear to it, listening for footsteps. When you don’t hear any, you carefully open the door and step through it.  
Sure enough, the hallway is empty. But you’re not out of the woods yet. You do your best to move silently, but the floor creaks beneath you as you move. You feel a little better once the stairs come in sight. You can see into the next room, and Toriel is nowhere to be seen. You slip down the stairs as quickly as you dare, heart pounding. You’re pretty sure you’ve had nightmares just like this.  
Still, somehow, blessedly, you come out unscathed onto a long, dark hallway. You feel the vines shift as Flowey lowers himself to the dirt. You pause just long enough for him to do so. He sighs quietly in contentment. The tension seems to leave his body as he wades through the earth beside you.  
You keep expecting something to happen, to hear a shout of outrage, footsteps pounding down the stairs behind you, but it doesn’t come. You make it all the way to the end, where the path turns and you find yourself gazing at the exit of the Ruins.  
That’s when you hear it. A _thump_ and footsteps, approaching impossibly fast.  
_Did she jump the stairs?!_  
You don’t stay to find out. You lunge for the door. Fire smashes into the wall behind you. Flowey disappears underground, and you can’t help but feel betrayed. Then he’s beside the door, motioning for you to move faster, and you almost make it, you really do...  
Something sears the back of your leg, and you let out an anguished cry as you stumble to your knees. You immediately turn around, helpless but determined to look your death in the eyes. You have to get through to her somehow... you just have to!  
Her expression is a grimace of pain and barely restrained fury.  
“You know...” she says quietly, as she steps forward. You try to edge backwards, but to no avail. Your leg stings. You feel you are going to die.  
“I really thought you were different.” Her voice breaks. Your soul emerges.  
Toriel once again blocks the way.  
“You’re just like the others. You humans... you’re all the same. You take what you want, by any means necessary. Kindness... violence... deception. It’s all the same to you, isn’t it?”  
“N-no, I just...”  
_“Save it.”_  
With a wave of her hand, Toriel sends a wave of fireballs your way. They home in on you as you roll over, sucking in a breath to keep from crying out. You roll several feet before the flames ricochet off the floor and flicker out of existence above you, leaving you only slightly charred on your right side. You stumble to your feet, ignoring the pain. You have to face her. You owe her this much.  
“Every human that falls down here meets the same fate. I have seen it again and again.”  
You try to back away towards the door, but your soul won’t let you. It remains tethered to the battle itself. As though it senses that the doorway is the farthest you can go before ending the fight. You realize this radius probably extends behind Toriel, as well. If so, you are well and truly trapped. Unless you can shake this feeling off, you will not be able to flee.  
But you refuse to fight.  
“They come.”  
This time, you’re ready for the attack. The pattern is different, and your health is draining rapidly, but you manage to find an opening.  
“They leave.”  
You pop a candy in your mouth and grimace.  
“ **They die.** ”  
The wave patterns are a bit wider this time, so you manage to successfully weave your way in and out of them without taking damage. Go you!  
Once again, you refuse to attack.  
“You **stupid** creature... _Don’t you get it?_ If you leave the Ruins, they... _Asgore..._ will **kill you.** ”  
You can see the tears glistening in her eyes even from here.  
“Do you understand? I was only trying to protect you... now I only want to give you a painless end.”  
She’s crying. Another large white hand appears as she waves hers, sending a wall of flames straight for you. They bend as though to flank you, but you dive to the side at the last second. They don’t have time to redirect themselves, and now all you have to do is avoid running into them as they bounce back. This is easier said than done, and the only reason you don’t sustain more damage is because the attack fizzles out before your soul stops flickering. _Damn this is hard._  
Despite her tears, Toriel looks right through you. You shudder.  
“Fight back already!” She barks. “Don’t just stand there! You cannot do so forever!”  
She’s right. You try desperately to think of something to say.  
“I don’t want to fight you.”  
She laughs. The sound is colder and drier than you’ve ever heard it.  
_“I know you don’t.”_  
As you begin dodging, you find yourself wishing she would just laugh like she did yesterday, whenever you made a stupid pun...  
_...Hang on!_  
“Do you think if you stall me long enough I will let you go out of _pity?_ You _clearly_ do not understand what awaits you beyond these doors.”  
_But what type of joke should I tell?_  
_...Now I REALLY hate black licorice..._  
“I don’t know why I gave you a chance... I should have known you wouldn’t take it. _Why? Why couldn’t you just take it?”_  
_Maybe goat puns?_  
“I hate this. I’m tired of the killing. _I’m tired of watching you die. As if my Azzy wasn’t enough. As if Chara wasn’t enough.”_  
_Holy shit she’s Asriel’s mother._  
_...That explains a lot._  
_...On second thought, this may not be the best time for goat puns._  
“SO STOP MAKING THIS HARDER THAN IT ALREADY HAS TO BE!”  
_Damn. I’m gonna run out of candies if I keep this up._  
_“IF YOU WON’T FIGHT BACK THEN JUST STAY STILL!”_  
“I don’t wanna die!”  
_“You should have thought of that before you tried to sneak away.”_  
“Look, I’m sorry, alright? I really am! But I-“  
“SHUT UP. JUST SHUT UP!”  
Dodging this particular pattern of flames is getting easier. It’s like a bizarre dance, teetering back and forth for your life. You pop your fourth candy.  
_That makes over half._  
“I know you want to go home... but you _can’t._ You were an adult, I thought... I thought maybe you would _understand. But I was wrong.”_  
“I _do_ understand! I-“  
_“No. You don’t._ If you understood then you wouldn’t be-“  
“No, _you_ don’t understand!” She stops in surprise, and you barrel onward before she can stop you. “I _know_ it’s dangerous! I _know_ you’re just trying to protect me! I _know_ you’re just trying to protect us! _All of us!_ You think I don’t know that?!”  
She’s speechless.  
“Look, I get it! You’ve seen so many of us die, you can’t do it anymore! You’ve already lost so much... it wouldn’t surprise me if you fought in the initial war! The last thing you want is _another_ one!”  
“...You’re the last soul...”  
“Yeah. So I’ve been told. And even if I don’t know exactly what that means, I can make an educated guess. You’re trying to break down the barrier, aren’t you? Freedom for the monster race. The unexpected end of all mankind. Men, women, and children... Some innocent, some guilty. All of them dead. That’s not what you want, is it?”  
She makes a choking sound at the back of her throat and sends another wave of fire dancing around you.  
“I’m not trying to hurt you anymore, Toriel. _Believe_ me, I’m not! But I _can’t_ stay here. I just can’t. It... It wouldn’t be fair. To either of us."  
The flames are now directing themselves _away_ from you. They sputter weakly before going out.  
“I want to help. I don’t know how, but I want to _help._ Maybe that means breaking the barrier, maybe it doesn’t. But... _god,_ you weren’t all just _born_ like this! I just... I just have to show them it’s _possible_ again! I just have to show them that _kindness_ is still an _option!_ If I can do that, then... even if I die... I’m _sure_ there can be peace again! And even if not, well... maybe, maybe I can help out in other ways! I’m in no real hurry to go home... but I can’t stay here. Staying won’t change anything. I have to talk to them. I have to make them reconsider. I have to... I have to...” You wave your hands helplessly. _“Go.”_  
_“I know.”_ Her voice is a hoarse whisper. She chuckles humorlessly. “...Pathetic, isn’t it. I cannot save the life of even a single human.”  
She approaches you. Your soul recedes. Her paws rest on your shoulders.  
“I understand. You would just be unhappy here. The Ruins are really quite small, and... humans bore easily. I know. I’ve seen it happen, many times. If you truly wish to leave, I won’t stop you. Just... promise me that you won’t hurt anyone. And that you’ll be careful. Monsters... monsters weren’t always like this. There was a time... there was a time when the darkness and the violence, it was all just a joke! A joke... that eventually went too far. This isn’t _us._ We used to be... We were so much _more_ than this! And we can be again... Maybe. Just maybe.” She smiles weakly at you. “You may have heard talk of the “Angel” of the Underground. Do you know what that is?”  
You shake your head.  
“No? Well. It is an old story, a long story, but... to be brief, legend tells of an angel who will descend from the surface and guide us to the light. Most monsters no longer believe in the legend, and those who do... simply think it means that the last human will die to give them the last soul they need. Prove them wrong for me, will you? Prove to them that violence is not the answer. This kingdom was great once... I would like to see it be great again.”  
You turn that over in your head. _Huh._ So you were some sort of savior now, were you? You guess you could live with that. You grin.  
“You’re very good at being brief.”  
“Yes,” she laughs along. It’s refreshingly genuine. “So I’ve been told.” For a moment, things almost seem normal again. “Believe it or not, I once aspired to be a teacher. Kids tend to lose focus if you aren’t brief.”  
“You really like kids, don’t you?”  
“...Yes. I was a mother myself, once, so...”  
“Say no more. I understand.” You smile. “I really like them, too.”  
“We have a lot in common.” She looks at you fondly. “I’m not surprised.”  
She roughly pats your shoulders. You try not to wince.  
“Now get going! You’ve got a world to save!”  
“Aye-aye, Ma’am!” You salute her, earning a chuckle.  
“That’s Tori to you, Private!”  
“Permission to call you on your cellphone, Mrs. Tori Sir Captain Ma’am Person?”  
She snorts.  
“If you _must.”_  
“I’ll take that as an affirmative, let’s go Private Flowey! ...Private Flowey?”  
He peeks tentatively out of the earth. You wave at him. He waves back with one trembling leaf.  
“I-if it’s all the same to you, I-I’m gonna go on ahead... I’ll meet you at the end of the exit, alright?”  
“Oh... A-alright.”  
Flowey ducks out of sight. Toriel snaps her fingers.  
“OH! I almost forgot... You can’t leave yet! You haven’t got a coat on! And you’ll get hungry, too... We haven’t got time for a meal, but there’s plenty of pie left you can have... It will be cold, but it should help ward away those hunger pangs, and heal those pesky bruises and cuts... Oh...!”  
You can’t help but laugh. It’s easy to see her as a mom when she gets like this.  
“Oh, I’ll be fi-“  
“Nonsense! At least take a coat and some pie, I insist. Snowdin is as cold as it sounds. Hang on, this will only take a moment...”  
She takes off down the corridor. You feel like you should tell her that Flowey is waiting for you, but she already knows. You wait impatiently for all of three minutes before she comes running back, panting heavily. She thrusts a scarf at you, and a platter containing an entire pie, sectioned out into even slices. Your inventory accepts it as one package, somehow. You guess she knows what she’s doing...  
“This... was all I could find... that would fit you. I thought...”  
“It’s fine. I won’t be there long. Thank you.”  
She smiles and ruffles your hair. You don’t tell her that her claws are scraping against your scalp, just shy of causing pain. It feels really good. Then she does something unexpected...  
She hugs you.  
You hug back.  
“Just... just don’t come back, alright? You understand.”  
You don’t trust your voice. You nod into her fur, instead.  
After a few long moments that feel like an eternity, she releases you.  
“Be good, alright? Stay warm, remember to eat, and don’t kill anyone!”  
“I won’t!”  
You step through the doors. Toriel calls after you.  
“No murder!”  
“You got it!” You shout back, flashing her a thumbs up as the doors swing shut behind you.  
You’re alone.  
You eye the scarf before wrapping it around your neck. It’s soft and warm and black with red lettering on it. It says “Mrs. Mom Lady” on it. You smile as you toss the end over your shoulder. You’re ready.  
You jog the rest of the way, the hallway becoming only marginally lighter as you go. You don’t want to make Flowey worry about you. Sure enough, he’s fidgeting when you catch sight of him, waiting in another patch of grass and light up ahead. He shrinks at the sound of your footsteps. You’re confused, until you realize he probably wasn’t sure it was you.  
“Hey, Private Flowey! I thought we were gonna do this together?”  
He looks stunned.  
“I... I-I thought... that... you...”  
“Naw! I’m not dead! I got this cool scarf, though! Why didn’t you tell me Toriel was such a good mom?” He flinches, and you frown. “She... WAS a good mom, wasn’t she?”  
“Yes... she _was.”_  
“Don’t worry, I’m not gonna pry. We’ve got bigger fish to fry! Hey... I’m a poet, and I didn’t even know it!”  
“That was terrible. Seriously, if you’re going to tell Mom Jokes...”  
You laugh.  
“Well, it lightened the mood, didn’t it?”  
He sighs.  
“...I guess. Let’s get going, ‘Mrs. Mom Lady.’”  
You grin.  
“Yup, that’s me! Onward, to adventure!”  
“...To adventure.”  
He gestures for you to do the honors, and you nod.  
You step up to the exit, the _true_ exit of the Ruins, take a deep breath, and push.  
The world goes stark white.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finals are over and I am FREE.  
> I hope this is alright, it was hard to edit thanks to its length, but I REALLY wanted to finish the Ruins by the end of this chapter and SOMEONE decided to have a meltdown along the way without my permission, so... this is much, much longer than I originally intended.  
> Please let me know what you think!


	4. P U Z Z L E S

A cold blast of wind hits you in the face.  
Snow. Everywhere. How is this even possible?  
Stepping out of the Ruins is like stepping out of a cool basement and into a walk-in freezer; the temperature drop is immense, and you can feel every last bit of warmth leaving your body as the snow crunches beneath you. You’re suddenly very grateful for the scarf around your neck, for what little good it does you... It’s certainly better than nothing.  
The doors swing shut behind you. You’re trapped.  
_Okay,_ you think. _No time to reconsider... Got to keep moving forward._  
“Don’t worry, t-things will get warmer once we reach W-waterfall... B-believe me, I don’t like it here, e-either.”  
You look down at him, shivering in the snow by your feet.  
“W-want a ride?” You ask, teeth chattering.  
To your surprise, he doesn’t even try to resist. He nods, and once he’s settled around your arm he burrows into the scarf and pops up against your neck.  
“We’d better get moving, they know we’re here now. There’s a camera in that bush over there.”  
You turn to look at it in surprise. There _is_ a tiny, suspicious hole in the otherwise dense foliage. You decide to take his word for it; it IS a pretty strategic place for a camera. Whatever curiosity you had has been quenched by the biting cold. You start walking.  
Your crunching footsteps and shaky breathing are all you can hear over the rustling of the trees, and the occasional _poff_ as a clump of snow slips from the branches above. The trees are thick on either side of the path, and all you can do is hope that nothing dangerous comes along, because you’d have literally nowhere to go but where you came from. You could _try_ to slip between the trees, but without any leaves or needles, it wouldn’t be worth the effort.  
Also, you’d get stuck, knowing you.  
You’re starting to regret leaving Toriel. Would a lifetime of bad puns and singed pie really have been so bad?  
The snow crunches behind you.  
There’s no one there.  
_“Run,”_ Flowey whispers urgently.  
You don’t need to be told twice.  
One of the weaker branches has snapped off and fallen onto the path. You step directly on it as you run by, but it’s too thick for your weight to snap. Moments later, you hear it...  
**Crack.**  
_Oh god._  
Your lungs burn as you suck in cold air, forcing yourself to keep running, even as your body starts to feel numb and your limbs start to stiffen. The trees just keep on coming... is there no end to this forest?!  
Something dark appears just up ahead, against the blanket of white. A wooden fence barring off a tiny bridge, spanning a tiny gap, with the wooden bars making it impossible to get through... There seems to be a gate through it, but it’s chained and padlocked. You slam into it with all the momentum you’ve built up, but it doesn’t budge. It doesn’t even rattle. _Who built this thing?!_ You claw desperately at it in an attempt to climb or jump it, but... it’s too tall and too smooth for you to do either. Heavy footsteps approach from behind. You’re frozen in shock and terror. Then Flowey nuzzles into your neck, trembling worse than you are. You snap out of it. No. _No. I’m not dying like this._ There’s only one thing to do...  
You turn around, put your back to the wall, and prepare to fight.  
Your heart skips a beat; they were closer than you were expecting.  
“ **Hey, human... Don’t you know how to greet a new pal? Reach forward, and shake my hand.** ”  
You are, unfortunately, too busy ogling him to do as he says.  
He’s literally a skeleton, but his teeth are unnaturally sharp and twisted up into a positively sinister grin. One tooth in the far right corner, which would be to his left, is golden. He’s wearing white and black sneakers, red and yellow socks, and black shorts, yellow stripes down the side. You almost cringe at the sight, given how cold it is. He also has on a red shirt underneath a big, black jacket... A hoodie? With a furred collar. Its fluffiness would almost make you laugh, if you weren’t so terrified. And he’s... sweating? You don’t have time to question that.  
Two eyes, one a white pinprick of light, the other a large, glowing iris of crimson, are locked onto you. Bone creases as you stare, giving him a look of perturbed confusion.  
“ **Well? Aren’tcha gonna shake my hand, ‘FRIEND?’** ”  
His voice is so deep and loud that you swear you can feel the reverberations from where you stand.  
Quickly, instinctively, you do as you’re told.  
_Bzzzzzt._  
_Ow!_  
You jolt, as pain erupts from between your clasped hands. You yank yours away without thinking, but aside from a puckered circle of red, irritated skin, your palm is no worse for the wear. He holds up his hand, and you stare at it in bewilderment, before finally recognizing the device hidden there.  
You must have looked about as dumbstruck as you feel, because he bursts into laughter.  
“The ol’ joy buzzer in the hand trick... _Classic._ ” He wipes at one of his eyes, shaking with mirth.  
The laughter stops abruptly, and an arm comes to rest against the wood above you. He leans in, trapping you against the gate... as if you had anywhere to run in the first place!  
“So, you’re a human, huh? That’s **hilarious.** ” He leers down at you and you shrink away, feeling smaller than ever. “Name’s Sans. Sans the skeleton.”  
“I-I can see t-that...”  
He chuckles.  
“Are you cold, or am I really that charming?”  
You consider your options carefully.  
“Um... B-both?”  
“Heh. Somebody’s got you well trained. Which is just as well, since being a _pet_ is all you’ll have time for once my brother locks you up.”  
“U-uh...”  
“I’m actually supposed to be on watch for humans right now, but...” He brings his other hand up, fingers rubbing together, as if inspecting nails that aren’t there. His grin widens. “A few _shiny coins_ might keep me, _distracted_ long enough for someone to pass by... _unnoticed._ What do you say?”  
It’s not a difficult choice.  
“H-how much?”  
He smirks.  
“...20g.”  
“What?!” Flowey twists around, leaving what little skin he had managed to warm exposed to the frigid air.  
“I-I actually owe s-someone else some money, t-too, s-so, if...”  
“Well they’re gonna be pissed when you get locked up, aren’t they? My bro could be here any minute, so unless you wanna be captured, I’d suggest you pay up and get out.”  
“J-just do as he says...” Flowey whispers, retreating once more. He sounds quiet and weak again... Is it just the soil, or is this cold as bad for him as it is for you? If you could just buy a jacket, you’d be... _Hang on._  
You set your jaw and lift your head to meet his gaze.  
_Oh, hell no._  
_You are **not** a pushover._  
_Let’s show this jerk how it’s done!_  
“...10.”  
“What?”  
“10 gold, t-to pass through.”  
“Are you really in a position to be making offers, Sweetheart? I could always just leave you here for my bro. You know, if you’re lucky, you might even freeze to death before he finds you. Trust me, that’d be a _much_ nicer way to go...”  
“And h-how much gold would you get then?”  
The pupil of the crimson eye narrows, and the white pinprick is barely visible in its socket. You refuse to look away, maintaining eye contact defiantly.  
“W-would you split it with your brother? W-would it all go to New Home? O-or w-would you even be able to get any at a-all?”  
“...” He studies you for a long moment. Then...  
“19g.”  
“11.”  
“18.”  
“12.”  
“16.”  
“15.”  
“Deal.”  
He grabs your hand and clasps it tightly.  
You gasp in pain as a loud, cartoonish buzzing once again erupts from your joined hands.  
_Goddammit._  
You laugh shakily, clenching your hand against the pain as you slip the other into your pocket, hoping to all that is holy that this works. Sure enough, a small handful of coins has appeared there. You have no way of checking that it’s the right amount, so you guess you’ll have to trust the system on this. _Damn, that stings..._  
“Aw, man... you are _too easy..._ ” His snickering subsides as he holds out a hand, making a ‘pay up’ gesture. “Now, about that gold... _Thank you VERY much._ ” The coins clink together as they fall into his palm. His fingers curl around them before they have a chance to slip away, and you can tell they’ve disappeared even before he leans back and slips both hands into the pockets of his _warm, warm_ looking jacket. _So very, very warm._  
_-15 gold._  
_Total: 7 gold._  
“A’ight. That should keep me busy for a while. Thanks, Dollface.”  
“It’s not...”  
“Shit, is that my bro? C’mon. I have an idea.”  
“WhA-OOMPH.”  
The gate disappears from behind you with a tiny _click,_ and suddenly you’re flat on your back in the snow. You barely have time to register that before Sans is cursing and reaching out to haul you up again. His hands are actually warm compared to your own, but then your own are barely capable of feeling at this point. The next thing you know, you’re being half-dragged down the path towards a clearing just up ahead, where you can see a hastily constructed wooden sentry station, a few lumps that could either be snow or snow-covered rocks, as though someone gave up on building a fort halfway through, and... _what the hell is that?_  
You don’t have time to ask, because a hand on your back is shoving you towards the sentry station, sending you face first this time. He curses again.  
_“Quick, hide. And whatever you do, **don’t** make a sound.”_  
_Like you have to be told **that!**_  
You have just enough time to scramble behind the sentry station before harsh footsteps enter the clearing, and a voice that somehow manages to be both gravelly and screeching shouts,  
“SAAAAAANS!”  
“Yo.”  
“Don’t ‘yo’ me, you worthless sack of bones! It’s been eight days and you STILL haven’t RECALIBRATED. YOUR. PUZZLES.”  
Is it just you, or does Sans’ voice sound farther away than it should be?  
_Jeez, how fast ARE these monsters?!_  
You would try to turn around to peek through a crack or something, but you don’t dare move as long as this new monster is here. Instead, you occupy yourself by staring at a pair of matching ketchup and mustard bottles that are not so much _shelved_ as they are _stashed_ upon the wooden boards of the station. Their presence is so familiar that it feels surreal, and for a moment you feel yourself detach from reality, becoming nothing more than a spectator, before the cold brings you crashing back with a violent shudder. It’s all you can do to keep from whimpering, concentrating on keeping your breathing level and quiet, while also biting down on the scarf to keep your teeth from chattering. There’s nothing you can do about the shivering... nothing but pray he leaves before he notices.  
And before you freeze.  
Still, you don’t have to _see_ the newcomer to know his hands are probably on his hips, and his body is probably bending forward to better scold his brother.  
“So what’s your excuse _this_ time?”  
“Sorry, bro. I’ve just been starin’ at this cactus. You know how it is.”  
“That cactus has been DEAD and FROZEN for WEEKS. I honestly don’t understand why you won’t get RID of that ugly thing!”  
“What, get rid of Spike? C’mon, you LOVE Spiky!”  
_Wait... that misshapen lump of prickly snow is a PLANT?_  
“I don’t have TIME for your nonsense, Sans!” The newcomer growls in disgust. “What if a human comes through here? I can’t risk not being prepared for such a perfect opportunity to advance my position in the Royal Guard! I **must** be the one to capture the final human! Then Undyne will have no _choice_ but to step down and appoint _me_ Captain of the Guard in her place! Then, I, the Great and Terrible Papyrus, will finally receive the fame and recognition I so utterly deserve!”  
“Isn’t that what you said about _joining_ the Royal Guard?”  
“SHUT UP, SANS! Becoming Captain will prove my worthiness in ways becoming a simple _guardsman_ never could! People will _grovel_ at my feet! They’ll _quake_ as I pass! Monsters will _tremble_ at the mere _sound_ of my name! As, rightly, they should! I will be the most fearsome monster in the Underground, save the King, of course. And perhaps one day, I will surpass even Asgore himself! Nyehehe!”  
“Well, maybe Spike here could teach you a thing or two. He’s really... _sharp._ ”  
Based on Sans’ smug tone of voice, and the newcomer, Papyrus’ reaction to it, you’re willing to bet that was a pun.  
“AUGH. You lazybones! All you do is sit around and... and BOONDOGGLE! You get LAZIER and LAZIER every day! What are you going to do if a human comes through here?!”  
“Hey, take it easy, bro. I’m just taking a break. Y’know, since I’m _bone_ tired after all that _backbreaking_ work I’ve been doing.”  
“What work?! All you’ve done is sit around and nap!”  
“Not true! I’ve gotten a ton of work done today.”  
_Oh god you can FEEL the pun coming._  
“A _skele-ton._ ”  
_Is this how Flowey feels._  
“SANS!”  
“Aw, c’mon. You’re smiling.”  
“I am NOT smiling!”  
“...On the inside.”  
“SAANS.” Papyrus sighs deeply. “Why must someone as GREAT and TERRIBLE as I, put up with SO MUCH on my path to fame and glory? Why must I work so hard for what is already mine? Respect... Fear... _Admiration..._ ”  
“Wow. Sounds like you’ve been working yourself... to the _bone._ ”  
“UGH. I don’t have time for this! I am going to attend to my puzzles, and if _your_ puzzles aren’t calibrated by the time I am finished, we are going to have a VERY long talk about getting your priorities in order!”  
“Is that a threat or a promise?”  
Papyrus groans.  
“You’re just lucky you only have 1HP. As for your work... put a little more... _backbone_ into it! Nyehehehe! Heh.”  
The footsteps recede, stomping less harshly back the way they originally came. Once they’re gone, you dare to breathe properly, gulping in air that turns your lungs to ice on contact. You grimace. Your throat isn’t liking this adventure one bit... It’ll be a miracle if you avoid getting sick after this.  
“Alright, he’s gone. Now get moving.”  
You jump. Sans is leaning over the counter looking at you. Or, looking at your shoes peeking out, from his position. You push yourself to your feet with sheer willpower and a little help from the station itself, feeling self-conscious as his gaze bores into you the entire time. You must have looked as pathetic as you feel, because he sighs in frustration. The next thing you know, he’s standing right next to you. It startles you enough that you instinctively grip the counter again to keep from falling.  
“Here,” he grumbles. In his outstretched hand is... his jacket. He looks different without it, and if your cheeks didn’t already feel freezer-burned, you’d swear they were heating up. Somehow, he still manages to look, well... a little chubby, even without the puffy jacket. Not that that’s a bad thing, of course! But you’re a little surprised that a _skeleton_ can even _have_ chub.  
You accept the jacket, almost physically pouncing on it in your haste to get it over your shoulders. _Oh god it’s still warm. Wait... How does that work...?_  
“Don’t get any _weird_ ideas, or anything. Tori an’ I have a bet going, and I hate to lose. Now get going. He might come back, and if he does... well, he’s gonna wonder where the hell my jacket is, isn’t he?”  
“Y-you... know Tori?” You shiver hard, as though trying to shake off the cold, before sinking into the warm depths of the jacket. It smells like old sweat and mustard, but you’re too relieved to care.  
“What? You don’t honestly think I’d have let you live if there wasn’t a catch involved, do you? Naw. Tori an’ I are bettin’ on how far you make it. I gave ya the benefit of the doubt, since you’re an adult and all. **So don’t mess this up for me, capishe?** ”  
“Uh... Y-yes?”  
“ **Good.** Now move yer ass. I’ll met ya up ahead.”  
“W-what?”  
But he’s already walking away.  
“Later, Sweetcheeks.” He waves dismissively as he walks away... in the direction you just came from.  
“Watch out for him,” Flowey whispers. “He’s _not_ what he seems. Sans can be one of the most dangerous monsters in the Underground, when he wants to be.”  
“And Tori?”  
“Yeah, her... her, too.”  
“And Asgore’s the king, right?”  
“Yeah. He’s another one. There are a few others, including Papyrus and Undyne, but... Hopefully we can avoid running into any of them. Still, Sans is tricky, and I don’t trust him. Be on your guard.”  
“My _Royal Guard?_ ” You snicker. “Y’know, because you’re...”  
_“I get it.”_  
“Right... Aw, man! I didn’t even get a chance to ask him about his sentry station!”  
“ _Yes,_ he sells hotdogs. Hamburgers, sometimes, too. Don’t ask me why he keeps all that stuff all the way out here, I honestly think he just eats it himself.”  
“But... all I saw was condiments?” Your shivering has momentarily stopped, thanks to Sans’... body heat? _Probably magic._  
_It’s always magic._  
Flowey grimaces.  
“He _drinks_ them.”  
“He _what?”_  
Before the conversation can go any further, you catch sight of something comfortingly familiar.  
“ _Save point!_ Oh, _sweet,_ sweet relief!”  
Your hands brave the outside of Sans’ sleeves once more, for the gentle warmth of the healing star. Flowey seems content to remain inside the jacket, for the time being. You take this moment to examine your surroundings, now that your soul is no longer in mortal peril. The trees here are healthy and full, which makes for a suspiciously sudden transition, although the multiple available paths tell you that you’ve probably made it past the gauntlet of traps used to funnel humans straight into the hands of the Royal Guard.

It’s really quite efficient, when you think about it. Most impressive, for a race whose only opponent has been children for the past one thousand years.  
“So where do these come from, anyway?” You ask, debating whether or not to leave the relative safety of the save to check out the sign and crate on the opposite side of the path.  
“The saves? I’m... not really sure. The first one appeared around the time Chara fell...”  
“Oh... Your sibling?”  
“Y-yeah...”  
“So... Do you think they made them? The saves?”  
“I... don’t know. It’s possible. I guess.”  
“So, wait... If Chara made the saves, then why was the first one right in front of a trap? Or was that installed afterwards, to catch other... you know.”  
“Oh, that? That actually used to be a drain pipe. It was converted into a trap after monsters realized that the Ruins are too small to have their own weather system.”  
“ _Ah._ Okay. Makes sense.”  
Just as you start to stand, mouth open to ask about the paths, something appears from around the trees. It looks like... a bird monster?  
As soon as it sees you, it jumps. Its feathers bristle, and the next thing you know, it’s running straight for you!  
Your heart emerges.  
Well, actually, it’s your soul, isn’t it?  
Your soul emerges.  
The bird monster leaps to a halt right in front of you, sending snow spraying from beneath its razor-sharp talons. Its beady eyes glimmer, and its feathers are puffed outwards, but even this cannot hide the truth about their size. They stand roughly to your chest, although they’ve got a large frill of feathers on their head, and despite their predatory appearance... they’ve still got quite a bit of fluff underneath their wings. You think that means they’re young? Although their flight feathers seem to be growing in... a teenager?  
“Well ain’t _this_ a surprise!” It cackles, in a young masculine voice. He sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound tougher than he really is. “A little old _human,_ lost in the woods! Whatever will they do?” He hops excitedly from foot to foot. “I know! How about, _they give me their soul?”_  
“How about not?”  
_“Wrong answer!”_  
White crescent moons appear in the air around you, turning the area you’re standing in into a moving minefield. It’s hard to know where the bullets are, since they blend in with the snow, but to your surprise, you take very little damage from one of them when it hits. You check, and sure enough, Sans’ jacket bears only the faintest impression where it was struck. You have no time to wonder if the jacket is enchanted or if that was just a very poor hit, because suddenly the bird is talking.  
“Hey, you’re a _slippery_ one, if you catch my... _snow drift._ ‘Cause... that was... a double pun? _Nevermind._ ” He ruffles his feathers in agitation, and attacks again.  
This time, instead of crisscrossing all around you, the crescents follow one another in a line, winding through the air like snakes. They’re very easy to dodge, and you get a good look at your opponent in the process.  
_They literally have a snowflake on their head!_  
Their feathers are light blue, tipped in a much darker blue and sporting accents of purple on the frill on their head. And sure enough, nestled amongst the frill, and spanning all the way down their face to two tufts of feathers alongside their beak, is a white snowflake pattern.  
Other than that, they remind you somehow of a hawk or a vulture. That sharp beak is definitely not indicative of an herbivorous diet!  
“It was _ice_ knowing you!” He cackles again, but with less confidence than before.  
You get the feeling this teen comedian fights to keep a captive audience.  
You smile and chuckle at his puns. He looks stunned, and a more relaxed grin settles over his beak.  
“See?! Laughs! Dad was wrong! They were all wrong!” He hops excitedly in the snow, then clears his throat “discreetly.”  
“Now, human... Prepare for the most _diabolical_ death that was ever experienced by your kind! Death, by... _laughter!”_  
“ _Snow_ way, I love to laugh! _Your jokes will only make me stronger!”_ You giggle at the floored look on his face. Then your pun seems to sink in; his grin widens and his eyes light up with nervous joy.  
“A fellow comedian, then? This will be a _flight_ for the ages!”  
“Oh, I’m just _wind_ -ing up! Better brace for ill _feather_ because I’m bringing down the _thunder!”_  
_“Oh, god...”_ Flowey moans. “Not _this_ again...”  
“How en- _lightning!_ I had no idea humans were so... _punny!_ But rest assured, human, this is only the calm before the storm!”  
“Really? Can you feel it in your... _blizzard?”_  
“That’s it, I’m out.” You laugh as Flowey ducks beneath the collar of the jacket and out of sight. You can still hear his muffled voice mumbling to himself underneath the many layers of fabric.  
The bird monster is practically vibrating with excitement.  
“Indeed I can, human! _Snow_ you’d better not _snow-flake_ out!”  
“In that case, it would be only fitting for you to know the name of your opponent, wouldn’t it?” You grin and pose dramatically. “I am (Name), of the land of the surface! And you are?”  
“...” He eyes you warily. “Snowdrake, of the land of... _holy snowflakes my name’s a pun. Snowdrake, snowflake. Oh my god. Oh my god, oh my god, oh my god...”_  
“Your dad must be a comedian, too, huh?”  
“Oh... Well...” He shuffles nervously. “I... guess, he’s not... _too_ bad. He even makes a little money doing it up at the MTT Hotel and Casino, but... he’s not as good as that sentry.”  
He shifts a little guiltily, then looks up at you in sudden suspicion.  
“Hey... isn’t that his jacket? You... you didn’t...”  
“No, of course not!” You interject in horror. You, kill Sans? It was almost the other way around!! “I... bought it? I mean, I paid him to let me through, and he... gave it to me?”  
“Really? Because I buy things from him all the time, and he never gives _me_ anything.”  
“Well... He...” You sigh. “If you must know, Sans has made a bet on how far I can survive, and he doesn’t want to lose his money. I didn’t _do_ anything to him, if that’s what you’re worried about. I don’t think I could hurt that guy if I _wanted_ to. Have you _seen_ how fast that guy moves?!”  
“Yeah,” the Snowdrake smiles almost dreamily. “He’s always just... _popping up_ places. Sometimes it’s like he’s in two places at once! He’s _so_ cool...”  
“Speaking of cool...” You almost sigh in relief as your soul returns to your chest. It feels kind of good, like a good, deep breath. Having it ripped out of you, though... definitely not a fan. _Heh. Fan._ “It’s... pretty cold out here, so... if you don’t mind, I’d _really_ like to reach Snowdin soon... Preferably _before_ the ‘Great and Terrible Papyrus’ comes back and captures me...”  
“...” He stares at you again. You both know he’s not going to stop you, but you know how much monsters love their reputations. “...Alright. I’ll let you go. On _one_ condition.”  
“And that is?”  
“C-could you... umm...” His gaze drops to his feet, as his talons scratch awkwardly at the snow. “Maybe... put in a good word for me? W-with Sans?”  
“Huh?” You blink.  
_A good word? Me?_  
“W-well, because... b-because humans are tough! And Sans is so cool, and if he thought I was tough enough to, _beat_ one, then, he might think I was...”  
“...Cool, too?” You supply, eyebrow raised. He nods sheepishly. “Alright, I can give it a shot. But I’m warning you, my opinion isn’t worth much down here. And I’m... really not that tough.”  
_“Please.”_ He puffs his feathers out again, serving only to make him more fluffy than intimidating. “You survived an attack from _me. Clearly_ the stories about humans are _true._ ”  
“Well... If you say so! I certainly don’t _feel_ tough... I feel... shivery, mostly.”  
That earns you an amused snort from the young drake. Then...  
“H-here... Think of it as, payment, for talking to Sans for me...”  
You feel bad about accepting the small handful of coins, but you _did_ just blow most of yours on staying alive. You vow to make it up to him somehow... Maybe you’ll pay Sans to talk to the kid, or something.  
“T-thanks, but... remember, no promises, alright?”  
Snowdrake rolls his eyes.  
“I know, I know! Just... make sure he knows my name, okay?”  
You smile.  
“I can make sure he _hears_ it, I can’t guarantee he’ll _listen._ By the way... whatever your dad said... whatever the others say? Don’t let them get to you. Your jokes are _fine..._ you just need to tell them with a little more confidence. Alright?”  
He stares up at you in wonder.  
_God, are ALL the children neglected down here?!_  
He nods, almost imperceptibly.  
“Thanks.” His voice is soft and quiet. Then he’s gone, running off back the way he came.  
You wonder what he was doing here in the first place.  
_+12 gold._  
_Total: 19 gold._  
“Huh... You’re actually alive.”  
“Yep, still kickin’!” You grin down at him. Flowey rolls his eyes.  
“Will wonders never cease?”  
“Next time, try not to move around so much in there, okay? It tickles!”  
“Oh, good. I was worried you were _actually_ laughing at his jokes for a minute there!”  
“Oh, _be nice!”_  
You take a moment to warm your hands over the save point again. Ah, body heat... so easy to lose. So hard to restore.  
Stuffing your hands in Sans’ pocket, you’re alarmed to find them filled with... ketchup packets? You pull a few more out. Yup. All condiments and toppings. There’s even a sugar packet or two in here!  
...Well. He probably won’t notice if a few of these go missing, right?  
You rip one open and pour the entirety of its contents into your mouth. Flowey makes a face.  
“Really?”  
“Hey, I didn’t eat today. _Somebody_ decided to skip breakfast!”  
“She probably burned it anyway,” he scoffs.  
That is true. She was a little _distracted_ by your escape attempt.  
“I’m... sure she remembered to turn off the stove!”  
He just rolls his eyes and pokes one leaf out of the scarf to point.  
“Hey, look! A sign. You love those.”  
You hum in agreement.  
_This is a crate._  
_It can be used to store things._  
_Just put an item in, and you can retrieve it later! Isn’t that neat?_  
_The same crate will appear later on, so don’t worry about coming back._  
_Sincerely, a crate lover._  
“Scam?”  
“Scam.”  
“Dang. That’d be _really_ useful.”  
“We already have two inventories between us, that’s hardly _insufficient._ ”  
“I know, but still.”  
You gaze longingly up the path.  
“I don’t suppose we have time to explore?”  
“Actually...” he surprises you. “That might not be a bad idea.”  
You stare at him in horror.  
“Who are you and what have you done with my flower friend?”  
“It’s true! They already know we’re here, and they’re going to be looking for us. It can’t hurt much to wander around, stay off the beaten path for a while...”  
“YES! Oops.” You slap a hand over your mouth. Flowey glares at you. You grin sheepishly. “Sorry.”  
The path north is a short one. The trees quickly give way into a small clearing, opening out onto a deep, rushing river. It looks cold. There’s really nothing of interest here, except for a large red fishing rod affixed to the ground. You decide to reel it in.  
“Uhh, look... I realize you’re _kind of_ a masochist, but... I wouldn’t... do that, if I were you...”  
“Or what, a sea monster’s gonna pop up and attack me?”  
“Worse...”  
You reel in a waterlogged photo, attached to the hook. It twists and turns as you pull it up, revealing a bleary picture on one side, with smudged handwriting. Looks like a phone number, and maybe a winky face? You reach out, catch it, and turn it over.  
“No, seriously, I wouldn’t...”  
“What, what am I... _oh, ew! I did NOT need to SEE that!!”_  
“...I tried to warn you.”  
_“Ew ew ew ew eww...”_ You toss the barely, but _unfortunately_ recognizable image back into the water.  
It’s someone else’s problem now.  
You walk away.  
_Quickly._  
“Just be glad the water washed away most of it.”  
_“I saw enough.”_  
“You’ll live.”  
_“What is seen cannot be unseen.”_  
“That’s what you get for being a pain-seeking masochist!”  
_“I need a safe word.”_  
A leaf gently pats your cheek.  
_Who the hell would even DO something like that?! And more importantly, how stupid is he to think that’ll actually WORK?_  
By the time you pass the crate, you’ve managed to shake off these thoughts and calm down, if only a little. You still have a very strong urge to punch something, but at least this feeling is familiar. You can work with this.  
“AS I WAS SAYING.”  
You jump. That voice is very close, and _very_ familiar.  
_Oh, no..._  
You try to carefully step back, to at least _try_ to get out of their line of sight, but as fate would have it...  
_Crack._  
_Oh, NOW the branches want to break on me!_  
Four eyes snap to attention. You curse under your breath and consider running.  
You don’t get a chance.  
Your soul strains inside your chest, but for once... doesn’t emerge. Instead, you feel something... _shift._ As if something has changed, but you don’t know what.  
You try to run.  
Your legs won’t budge.  
“Oh, no! _You_ aren’t going _anywhere,_ human!” Papyrus cackles. The sound is legitimately terrifying, which is strange, given he looks like he lost a fight with a gothic clothing store.  
Looks like black, red and gold run in the family.  
_Are you SURE this isn’t Halloween Town?_  
Papyrus strides towards you, and frowns.  
“...Sans.”  
Sans stiffens, sweat beading his skull.  
“Yeah, bro?”  
“Why is the human wearing one of your jackets.”  
Your mind slows down to process this fresh horror. In doing so, you notice two things.  
Sans is in front of you, which **should not** be possible.  
And he’s wearing another jacket, _identical to the one he gave you._  
“I... I stole it!” You blurt out. “W-well, I mean... I found it. I-in a sentry station, just down the path! I-I didn’t mean to keep it, I w-was just so cold, I’m sorry!”  
“...” Papyrus glares down at you. At least you think he’s glaring. That might just be his face, to be honest. _And where did he get that awful scar from?_  
“Uhhh... that’s right! I, keep a spare at all of my stations, just in case I forget. Or, y’know, if I run out. It’s good to prepared, right?” Sans grins, hands in his pocket.  
“It’s filled with mustard and ketchup packets!” You say loudly, as indignantly as you can muster. Papyrus gives him a look. He shrugs his shoulders sheepishly.  
“Like I said... gotta be prepared.”  
Papyrus groans. Well, at least it looks like he believed you!  
“Human! You will not leave this area alive, for I, the Great and Terrible Papyrus, shall kill you where you stand! Nyeh heh heh heh!” He poses dramatically, red, tattered scarf billowing in the wind like a cape. “Any last words?”  
Your mind whirls like a computer scanning a document. A cheeky remark won’t help you with this guy; you have to be smart! Begging? _Please._ Bluffing? Too risky. Flattery? Doubtful. It’d buy you some time, at best. Reason?  
“I thought the king was supposed to kill me?”  
“And whatever gave you that idea?”  
Magical bones appear in the air behind him as he sneers. At least until Sans pipes up.  
“Can I have my jacket back now?”  
“Rggh, SANS! Can’t you see I am in the MIDDLE of something here?!”  
“Yeah, you’re about to _skewer_ my jacket, I can _see_ that!”  
“It’d be an _improvement_ with _your_ fashion sense!”  
“Says the guy who’s still wearing that ridiculous costume he made three weeks ago!”  
“It’s **battle armor.** I wouldn’t expect **you** to understand.  
“It’s a **costume** and you look like a **tool.** ”  
“I do not!” You’re shocked to see the ‘Great and Terrible Papyrus’ stomp his feet in the snow like a child. Then he grins, assuming his earlier pose. “ **I,** for one, think it makes me look... _cool._ Nyehehe!”  
_“Ugh.”_  
_Wow. Talk about a pair of hypocrites!_  
“I-I think your armor looks... pretty fearsome.”  
“Well... Of course you do! Humans are notoriously easy to frighten! It’s a wonder that monsters were trapped down here in the first place. The species has **clearly** degraded if _this_ is the best you have to offer!”  
“I’m, not a soldier...”  
“I can see why.” He straightens and reassumes what you are beginning to refer to as “the pose” in your mind. “ _Obviously_ things would have gone differently if **I** had been there to fight in the war!”  
The feeling in your chest has begun to fade. Is it wearing off? You try to wiggle your toes. Sure enough, they twitch.  
_You have an idea._  
“W-well... What if, the humans didn’t _win_ the war by being all, tough and scary?”  
“What are _you_ going on about?”  
“I’m just saying! I mean, the Ruins are filled with puzzles, which are clearly designed to stop a human in their tracks, which, leads me to believe that perhaps the war was a... battle of wits? Not that monsters are stupid! Or anything. Just that, when cornered, we can be pretty resourceful, and some of us are quite clever. Admittedly, we’ve probably... degraded? As you say, at least in that regard, but... I think you’d be surprised what we can do when we put our minds to it. It’s... never a good idea to underestimate your opponents.”  
Both of them are staring at you. You take solace in the fact that your face was already cherry red with the cold. Maybe they won’t notice?  
“Puzzles, you say?” Papyrus is looking at you with renewed interest. “And you, _solved_ these puzzles?”  
“Yes?”  
“Hmm...” He makes a show of staring off into the distance, thinking. _Is everything this guy does theatrical?_  
“Perhaps I have underestimated you, human. You have managed to get through my gate, which is a feat in and of itself. Perhaps a true test of your skills is in order.” He assumes _the pose._ “For it just so happens that I, the Great and Terrible Papyrus, am a puzzle **master!** Nyeh heh heh!”  
You blink.  
_Wait, really?_  
_Does that mean what I think it means?_  
“Human!” He points a finger at you. You nearly go cross-eye at the sudden intrusion. “There are many _deadly_ trials ahead of you, each one painstakingly crafted to perfection by my expert (and fashionably gloved) hands! _And by that lazy, good-for-nothing brother of mine._ By surviving each of them, (which you won’t,) you will prove your mastery of the art of puzzle-solving! It would be a shame to waste such fine specimens of expert puzzle-crafting by leaving it, untested, for the surface!”  
_Yeah okay, he’s always like this. May as well give him what he wants!_  
“I accept!” You all but shout, placing your hands on your hips and striking a pose, now that you can move them again. He looks surprised, as realization dawns that you have, successfully, kept him talking long enough to do so. “For, little do you know, that I, (Name), the human, am an _elite_ puzzle-lover, the likes of which, you’ve never seen! Do your worst, villain! I’ve been _itching_ for a challenge since I got here!”  
It’s not a lie, and the flash of joy that flickers over his face as he grins is well worth the incredulous look Sans is giving you.  
“Perhaps I was wrong about you, human! Prepare yourself, for the greatest opponent you have ever had the misfortune to face is standing here, before you, at this very moment! ...ME! Nyeheheheheh!”  
And with that, he heroically (and fashionably) dashes out.  
“Come, Sans! We must PREPARE THE PUZZLES!”  
Sans looks at you with growing distrust. You smile sheepishly and shrug.  
“Sorry! I couldn’t resist.”  
“...You’re gonna cost me 40g.”  
You frown at that.  
“Aw, come on! I wasn’t lying about the puzzles! I might’ve _embellished,_ but I didn’t _lie._ Have a little faith! I might surprise you!”  
He chuckles and swipes a hand over his face, muttering to himself.  
“This should be entertaining.”  
Then he turns and vanishes around the bend in the path. You know, instinctively, that as soon as he leaves your line of sight, he’s gone.  
_How fast IS this guy, anyway?_  
You feel a familiar set of petals brush against your cheek as Flowey settles against you.  
“Well, that was close.” He says nothing. You smile, still posing. “I think that went very well!”  
And with that, you resume walking.  
“Oh, wow,” is all you can say as you follow in Sans’ footsteps and discover a lovingly crafted wooden _fortress_ in the snow. It’s... well, it’s small, which makes you wonder if the tall Papyrus would even _fit_ in it, but its castle-like structure and the torn red scarf fluttering like a flag in the breeze tells you otherwise. Also, every inch of it has been painted over with layer upon layer of black paint, to the point where it almost looks more... cartoonish, than scary. It still looms over you, though, and with the sharp, jagged spires... splintered pieces of lumber pointing upwards... it still manages to alarm you.  
There’s a note nailed to the front. You step closer.  
_I see you have noticed my sentry station._  
_You are probably wondering who “I” am._  
_“Who could have built this?” You think._  
_“No doubt it was that incredibly fearsome and intimidatingly handsome Captain of the Royal Guard!”_  
_Note: Not yet captain of the Royal Guard._  
_One day, though._  
_Soon._  
_-The Great and Terrible Guardsman Papyrus._  
“Aw,” you say, earning you strange looks from your living flower bracelet. “He tries so hard.”  
“Yes, and I hope you realize that _also_ applies to his killing you, so we’d better get going. Honestly, I should never have gotten involved with you...”  
“Oh, quit your worrying! I bet you that by the time I finish his puzzles, we’ll be best friends! Or... something.” You shrug. _“A sign!”_  
“What? Who’s there?! Show yourself!”  
You freeze in terror. Flowey tightens around you like a boa constrictor.  
There’s another sentry station up ahead. You have no idea why, given it’s right next to Papyrus’, but this one looks older, more weathered... and distinctly dog-themed. Structurally, it’s built a lot like Sans’, but like Papyrus’ fortress, this one actually has a back wall built into it. On it is tacked several informational posters, most of which appear to be human-capturing protocol. There is also a little bell on the counter, as well as a small whistle hanging from a peg on the wall next to it. A dog whistle? But the biggest difference, the most eye-catching detail of the entire station, is the large wooden carving jutting from the roof: a figurehead of a snarling dog, ears drawn back and teeth bared. A... small dog treat, appears to be jutting from its clenched teeth.  
Speaking of which, the sentry manning the station, who has risen up out of nowhere from behind the counter, is _also_ a snarling dog, and _also_ has a, much larger, dog treat clenched in his teeth. And it’s... smoking?  
The dog monster has relatively neat black and white fur, and wears a hot pink sleeveless shirt, which bears the image of a wolf head staring stoically forward. His expression is one of distrust, and his eyes sweep over you. You make eye contact, and hold your breath. Then he turns away, to your amazement, and mutters,  
“Must’ve been the snow again... Damn snow,” before sinking away and disappearing behind the counter.  
You wonder if there’s a heater in there.  
Now that you dare to breathe again, if a bit more quietly, you just barely turn your head to look at the sign.  
_Absolutely NO moving!_  
_Unknown movements WILL be destroyed!_  
_Identify yourself or be dusted!_  
_Huh,_ you think. _Is he blind? And what does that mean, dusted?_  
You shuffle your feet experimentally in the snow, inching forward at a snail’s pace.  
Nothing happens.  
You make it halfway to the counter before he appears again.  
“Okay, I KNOW I saw something moving! Show yourself!”  
You say nothing. He growls.  
“I _know_ you’re there! I can smell you! I... wait. Is that mustard?”  
Your breath catches.  
“...Sans?” You concentrate very hard on remaining perfectly still. “C’mon, big guy! This isn’t funny!” You wait. “Hmm...”  
Glancing around shiftily, he slowly descends back into his station. You resume your shuffling, only to have your soul burst out of your chest! The dog monster leaps over the counter and assumes a battle stance, a shiny blade in each hand, his head swinging wildly from side to side, as if trying to see through some hidden obstacle.  
A blue sword attack appears, and you have no more than an instant to brace yourself for the impact.  
Nothing happens.  
“I knew it! I knew I saw something moving! You...” He stops, sniffing deeply. “Wait a minute... You don’t smell like Sans... You smell... _weird._ And _way_ too good to be Sans! Who are you?! Show yourself!”  
Never thought you’d see the day where a compliment from a muscled, murderous bipedal _dog_ wearing leopard-print pants set you blushing. But, hey... That’s life. Full of surprises.  
“I know I saw movement _somewhere_ out here,” he mutters. “I _saw_ it. I can only see _moving_ things. If something _was_ moving... for example, a human... I’ll make sure it **never moves again!** ”  
You have a crazy idea, and it _just might_ be crazy enough to work!  
You concentrate _really_ hard, and see your soul start to shift.  
The monster stops, clearly honing in on the movement. He squints.  
“What... what is that? What are you?! Don’t fucking toy with me!”  
Another blue attack appears. This time, you’re ready for it. It phases through you harmlessly.  
“Come on...” He whines. “Don’t mess with me, man! I _know_ you’re there!”  
Your soul continues its slow, halting ascent. Flowey’s eyes widen in your peripheral vision, and you can feel him trembling.  
“Oh, sure... ‘Let’s all just mess around with Doggo! It’ll be a _grand ol’ time!’”_  
Almost... _Almost..._  
“It’s not like he’s fucking _disabled_ or anything, you fucking _dicks._ I... What was that?”  
_Made it!_  
Your soul slides across his fur, then shoots out behind him and comes to a halt. He looks up, grasping his head, eyes widening.  
“What the... I’ve... I’VE BEEN... PET?!” You smile as slowly as you can manage. “PET?! PET?! PET?! POT?! PET?!”  
You repeat the action, running your soul down his neck and back, once again shooting out of reach and avoiding his eyesight as he spins around, looking for the culprit. He sniffs hard, searching for the scent of Sans’ jacket. He turns around. Your heart skips a beat.  
“Smells like Sans... but not Sans?!”  
You quickly send your soul to scratch behind his ears, rubbing vigorously. He reacts about how you expected him to... his eyes roll up, his tongue lolls out, and he pants, one sharply-clawed leg thumping on the ground, tail wagging. Then he yelps and jumps away.  
_This is mean... but kind of fun!_  
“Where’s that coming from?!”  
More blue attacks appear, an entire string of them. None deals a single point of damage. You wait for his frustration and curiosity to get the better of him, and continue to “pet” him whenever you get the chance, from all sides. You even brush over his tail, enjoying the strange feeling of having fur rub against your soul.  
“THERE’S NO END TO IT!”  
More attacks. Well, at least they’re big and don’t blend in with the snow like the others. It makes them very easy to spot!  
“WELL, THIS IS THOROUGH!” You almost ruin the joke by laughing at that. As it is, you’re lucky he doesn’t catch the movement of your mouth as you purse your lips. He tries several times to trick you, attempting to catch you in the act, but you’re expecting that. It helps that his body language, being that of a dog, is actually _really_ easy to read. His ears will flicker, his tail will twitch, knees will bend, body will tense... You wonder idly if he could even _see_ your soul, even with it in motion... He didn’t seem to notice it coming out, did he? You decide not to test that theory.  
“ALRIGHT, THAT’S ENOUGH!”  
You soul returns to its normal position inside your body. The monster, Doggo, retreats back to his station.  
“S-s-s-something just pet me... something that isn’t m-m-m-m-moving...!”  
He dives over the counter again, legs kicking as he slides out of sight.  
“I need another dog treat!”  
You bite your lip and keep on shuffling. You hear him muttering to himself as you pass.  
“Maybe... maybe a statue? Sans leaves statues outside my station all the time... B-but statues don’t move! How could it pet me if it didn’t move?! I would’ve saw it if it moved!!” You can feel the warmth coming from inside. Yep, there’s definitely a heater in there! Or maybe some of those magic flames that Toriel had? “Maybe if I stay still, whatever it was won’t see me and it will just go away! Yeah! That’s what I’ll do!”  
Then, suddenly, a paw flashes above the counter, sending a fistful of coins scattering over the wood and into the snow.  
“I’m sorry I tried to chew on you that one time, okay?! Just take it and leave me alone! You win! I don’t know how you won, but you _win!”_  
Flowey’s vines, protruding from your sleeves, creep through the air and branch out towards the coins, collecting each one in a matter of seconds, before shrinking away and disappearing back inside of the jacket. It feels a little cold for a moment, then the vines shrink away entirely, and by this point you’re almost there. You hear more sniffing.  
“...Was that a plant? Am I being besieged by plants now?!”  
You bite harder on your lip. You almost draw blood.  
You spot a pile of half-burnt dog treats in the snow.  
_That litterbug!_  
You wrinkle your nose as the smell hits you. _Wow, that’s strong._  
“So how much gold did we get?” You whisper, upon reaching what you feel to be a reasonable distance from Doggo. If he hears you from where you are, he shows no sign of it. Although, to be fair, if he hears you from where you are, he’ll probably assume you’re another monster passing by... Snowdrake must have passed him earlier, right?  
“30g.”  
_“Are you serious?”_  
“Do I look like I’m joking? Your debt’s paid in full, and then some.”  
“No kidding! You owe me... 6 gold!”  
“Nah. I’m charging you interest.”  
“Aw, what?!”  
“You didn’t think my putting up with you was FREE, did you? We’ve been out here for maybe an HOUR, and you’ve already managed to almost get us _killed. Several_ times.”  
“’Almost’ being the key word here...”  
“Regardless, I’m charging you interest, to cover my psychiatric fees. You get nothing.”  
“Yeah? Well I’m charging _you_ interest! _My_ interest.”  
He looks at you, like he can’t decide what to make of what you just said.  
“Are you... flirting with me?”  
“...I’m sorry. Bugs, then.”  
“...Excuse me?”  
“Bugs. I’m charging you interest in bugs. You are now a bug collector. Enjoy your new hobby.”  
He stifles a snicker.  
“...Alright, that was pretty good...”  
You grin in victory.  
The path opens next on a large clearing dominated almost entirely by a single sheet of ice, with a sign protruding from a mound of snow in the middle. But you aren’t paying any attention to that, because, for some reason, _Sans_ is there.  
“You’re alive. Good job.”  
“No thanks to you,” Flowey mutters. Sans spares him a sidelong glance.  
“Wasn’t talking to _you,_ parasite.”  
“So... where’s your brother?”  
“He’s preparing his puzzle, just up ahead. Just wanted to stop by, say hello... make sure you were coming. You know, Paps is _really_ excited to show off his puzzles... Wouldn’t wanna **disappoint him, now, would we?** ” The lights in his eyes vanish for a split second, turning your veins to ice. “Anyhow, glad to see you made it here in one piece.” He frowns. “...Now give me my coat.”  
“What? No!” You hug the jacket closer to yourself instinctively. Somewhere along the line, you’d begun to refer to it mentally as “yours,” and hearing Sans say otherwise doesn’t seem to change how you feel. Not to mention, you’d freeze to death if you gave it back now!  
Sans growls, but calms himself with a sigh.  
“Look, this is not a joke, alright? The first puzzle is the electricity maze. Now give me my coat, before you fry it!”  
“But I won’t cook evenly,” you say, in a small voice. He looks stunned, but quickly recovers.  
“If it makes you feel any better, the corpse’ll probably get tossed into lava. You should be glad! I bet you’ve always wanted a _hot body._ ”  
“What’s wrong with my body?”  
He raises an eyebrow, a baffling feat in itself, and glances down your figure.  
“Well, for starters...”  
“No, no, you’re right...” You interrupt, as he goes to speak. “My body is lukewarm, at best.”  
He stares at you a moment longer, cheekbones turning pink, before he chuckles.  
“Hey, Doll... What’s black and white and red all over?”  
You decide to humor him.  
“A penguin with a rash?”  
“You, on fire, in approximately 12 seconds.”  
“That would defeat the purpose of protecting the jacket, though, wouldn’t it?” He growls, but you cut him off. “Look, can I just... keep it a little longer? It’s cold, and I want to explore before I start puzzling. Pleeeease?”  
“If you fry my jacket...”  
“You’re wearing one exactly like it, you obviously have more!”  
“Hey, if anyone’s going to ruin my clothes, it’s going to be _me._ ”  
“I just wanna check out that path over there, and then I’ll take it off for the puzzle, okay? Pretty please, with a cherry on top?” You grin. You know you shouldn’t, but flustering monsters is _super fun_ and you just can’t resist. You think you just found a new hobby. And apparently you’re good at it, who knew? The things you learn about yourself in times of peril!  
Sans shrugs, as he would if his face _hadn’t_ crossed the boundary from pink to red a few moments ago.  
“It’s your funeral. But hey. Don’t be too long, alright? I’ll meet ya up ahead... Try not to die.”  
“Wait!” You call, as he turns to leave. “What did you bet on me? I mean... How far did you bet I would... You know?”  
He stops.  
“Past Snowdin.”  
Your vision goes black.  
He’s gone.  
“...Huh.”  
“I don’t believe it...”  
“He actually thinks we’ll make it past his own brother?” You feel a silly grin coming on.  
“T-that’s what you’re worried about?! He’s going to turn on us, you know! As soon as we leave Snowdin.”  
“Naw. He’s too lazy.”  
“......”  
“Anyway, he has a point. We shouldn’t keep them waiting.”  
“Right...”  
“Cheer up! Things aren’t so bad, are they? All we have to do now is survive some puzzles!”  
That’s what I’m worried about. I’ve _seen_ you at puzzles.”  
“ _Psh._ I got through, like, half the Ruins without your help.”  
“That wouldn’t mean anything even if it were _true._ As it is, that’s just _sad._ ”  
You make an exaggerated sound of dismissal, feeling him smile as he snuggles into the scarf. It’s just you, the flower, and this giant sheet of ice.  
Speaking of... You step experimentally on it, and slip forward at an alarming rate. Wheeling your arms in the air to keep upright, you manage to remain on your feet just long enough to face-plant in the snow.  
You get up quickly, shaking snow off of your clothing and rubbing your face vigorously. The body heat in the jacket is entirely your own now, but it can only protect so much of you at once.  
_North: ice. South: ice. West: MORE ice. East: Snowdin Town._  
_And more. Fucking. Ice._  
_What did you expect? Daisies?_  
At least now you know which direction you’re traveling in.  
You step up to the ice.  
_Time for round two._  
“Put me down.” Flowey huffs.  
“Aw, come on! That was a one-time thing! I _got this!”_  
_“Put me down right now.”_  
“Trust meeeEEE!”  
You were doing fine until your foot hit solid snow, and the momentum didn’t stop. Oh, well. No harm done.  
“You’re _crushing_ me!”  
_Oh._  
_Whoops_.  
“Sorry, I...”  
“Ohoho! A human... wearing trash! Now there’s a sight you don’t see every day!”  
_...Fuck._  
Another monster. You use the buoyancy of your soul to lift yourself to your feet. It’s short, shorter than the last one was, but with a hat of ice spikes that puts Snowdrake’s frill to shame.  
Looks like a small snow golem, if a snow golem had a baby with a deranged jack-in-the-box. And then studded its head with crystals.  
_Seriously, what is with those crystals?! It’s like the most dangerous and mesmerizing headpiece you’ve ever SEEN!!_  
_...Is that natural, or are they wearing eyeliner?_  
“I see you know a good hat when you see one~ Jealous? **Good.** ”  
“(Name), look out!”  
“What the- AHH!” You look down to see a strange, red exclamation point, blinking against the snow between you. Then something is _moving_ and _coming into being_ beneath you, and you don’t wait to found out _what._  
You fling yourself to the side, feeling the spike graze you as more boxed exclamation points blink into existence around you. Panicked, you’re so busy trying to get away that you don’t notice the previous spike coming back _down._  
The ice monster cackles.  
“What’s the matter? Too distracted by my hat to dodge properly? Or are you really that _lame?_ Ahahahaha!”  
“L-let me guess... Your name’s Ice Hat, or something. Right?”  
“No, but it totally should be! “Icecap” is so dumb, does this _look_ like a cap to you?” He gestures to the _magnificent crystalline castle of purple death_ seated upon his head.  
“No,” you answer truthfully.  
“Exactly!! See? You get it!”  
White lines encroach on all sides, forcing you to jump repeatedly to avoid the rolling waves of bullets that have appeared.  
_Wow. This teenager is the most difficult fight you’ve had since Napstablook._  
“That... really is a nice hat, where’d you...”  
“Nice? _Nice? Please._ My hat is a _masterpiece,_ and everybody knows it!”  
More red exclamation points. Okay, you guess you’re doing _this_ again...  
You get clipped a few more times, but you notice the damage you’re taking is drastically reduced. Either that, or young monsters are just really, _really_ weak.  
...Yeah, no, something else is going on here.  
Also, you are disconcertingly bad at this. In your defense, having red squares blinking in front of you is incredibly distracting and _so is that hat._  
“You should be grateful!” Snowcap cackles again. Really, that is a thing that far too many monsters seem to do. You get that they’re creepy and all, but would a few nice, smooth, sonorous laughs be too much to ask? “After seeing my hat, everything else is a disappointment. So, out of the _kindness_ of my soul, I’m going to make sure you _never have to look at anything else ever again!”_  
This attack, again? Well, you suppose you’re getting better at dodging the spikes than you were at the wave-patterned attack...  
“Don’t you feel honored? _My hat will be the last thing you ever see!”_  
Okay, so complimenting the hat didn’t work. You should probably try something else.  
You tear your gaze away from the hat in search of something, anything, that might help you talk this guy down. Your eyes, when not focused on registering attacks, trail over the thick black outline of the eyes, the sharp, conical nose, the ice needle teeth...  
“Hey... What are you doing? Helloooo? My hat is up _here!”_  
...the incredibly insecure reliance on physical accessories to uphold his self-esteem?  
_Now we’re getting somewhere._  
The wave pattern returns. This time, though, you’re ready. You can feel the bullets whittling away at your jeans and shoes, but your soul manages to avoid taking any damage at all. Go you!  
You make a point of turning towards the path Papyrus should be down, as though trying to see what puzzle he has in store. The Icecap fumes.  
_Literally. Fumes._  
Visible frost has begun to leak out from beneath his hat. At least now you know for sure it’s not attached to his head. Probably. You suppose one never knows, when it comes to monsters...  
You could steal it, but that would be mean.  
“Better a hatter than a _hater!”_  
You snort. _That was a good one._  
You really hate these blinking boxes. You really, _really_ hate them.  
“Oh, come on! _Just look at my hat!_ It’s like, the size of my entire body! You can’t just, _not_ look at it!”  
More waves, and you quickly pop a candy into your mouth. Even Sans’ jacket is starting to take noticeable damage. Not that it wasn’t scratched up before... Thankfully, it’s very thick, and none of the attacks have managed to cut through. You wonder if Sans will notice...  
Finally, as the attack subsides, and you continue to look at the snow, the trees, anything but the Icecap in front of you... you hear a sniffle. You turn around in surprise.  
“F-fine... See if I care what you think! You’re just some dumb human, anyway! It’s not l-like I NEED you to tell me I’m great! I KNOW I’m great! And you know who ELSE thinks I’m, g-great? EVERYONE! That’s who! They LOVE me, AND my amazing hat! I-it’s not like they... It’s not like I... I... What?! _What are you looking at?!”_  
He swipes at tears that have already frozen to his face. He swears.  
“H-hey, hey, calm down! It’s...”  
“DON’T TELL ME TO CALM DOWN. I AM CALM. THIS IS ME BEING CALM.”  
_Dang it, not this again!_  
The spikes don’t stop when they usually do, and you get the sinking feeling you’re going to have to talk between dodging. You throw yourself across the snow to avoid a particularly fast spike, and nearly stagger into another one.  
_Shoot shoot shoot shoot SHOOT._  
“O-okay! Okay! You’re calm! I get it! You’re calm! B-but hey... If, say, you, needed to talk, about, y’know, whatever...”  
“SHUT UP! The only thing _I_ need is your SOUL!”  
“Fair enough. But, uh... C-can I, just, point out... how lovely... your eyes look... this... fine evening?”  
The attacks falter, but don’t stop.  
“D-don’t try to manipulate me!”  
“N-no, really! Your ice is... _totally chill._ ”  
Did his mouth just twitch upwards?  
“S-stop it. Your jokes are dumb!”  
“I know...” You hiss as you slam right into a spike. You need to end this, and fast... “B-but, hey! For what it’s worth, I think you’d, probably look, pretty great, even, without, the hat...”  
The attacks finally stop.  
“I-I don’t care... what you think of me...”  
“Of course you don’t. I’m just some dumb human who tells dumb jokes all the time. But, hey... You don’t need to fight for attention, you know? I mean, even without the hat, I’m sure you’d get lots of it. You’re really funny, you know that? You know Snowdrake? The, one who was out here earlier? You should totally be friends! I think you’d get along great together!”  
“I... hate that guy... He keeps making dumb jokes about my hat! My hat is _great!”_  
“Aw, of course it is! I’m sure he’s just practicing! He doesn’t _mean_ to be rude! Give him a chance, you never know! After all, it’d be a shame for him to go through life not knowing what it’s like to be friends with you, wouldn’t it?”  
That’s the first real smile you’ve gotten out of this guy, isn’t it? It looks much better on him than that manic clown grin he had on earlier.  
“And you have a really nice smile, you know that?”  
“Stop it. I will _pay_ you to stop talking.”  
“Has anyone ever told you you smell like a refreshing mountain breeze?”  
_“Stop.”_  
He pushes a handful of coins into your palm before looking up at you. He’s so short, that doing so nearly causes his hat to fall right off. You wonder how he doesn’t fall over.  
_+13 gold._  
_Total: 32 gold._  
“Look, just... take this gold, and tell no one of this.”  
“Of you beating me up? Are you sure?”  
“Not that! Of... of the other thing... Just take it! It’s tradition.”  
“A-alright... See you later?”  
_“Whatever.”_  
And he wanders off in the direction of Snowdin Town... and the skeleton brothers. He’s a monster, though, so he should be alright.  
You tell yourself that, as you hurry up the path to see what’s there. Probably another view of the river. That’d be ideal, since you’ve wasted enough time with that battle. You can’t really afford to run into any more monsters right now.  
“Careful... That guy can be a handful,” Flowey whispers as you enter another small clearing, this one leading to a drop-off over the edge of a cliff. You can hear the sounds of the river below.  
In the center of the clearing is a snowman. A... sneering snowman, whose mouth seems to turn upward as it sees you, into a nasty grin. The snow has been shoveled from around it, but it’s spattered with powder as though this were the site of a great snowball fight only moments before.  
You think about the icecap. Is that was he was doing? Fighting this thing?  
“Hey, human! Get yer sweet ass over here and help me out, won’t you?”  
“Uhh...” You’re not sure how you feel about getting cat-called by a snowman. Nonetheless, you do as he says, and approach. You came here to see what you could see... You might as well. You notice the carrot nose is crooked. It bothers you.  
“That’s right, sweetcheeks. C’mere. I got a favor to ask of ya.”  
Seriously, that’s really annoying. It’s also kind of shriveled and gross, which doesn’t make a lot of sense to you given it should be magical, or something. Does magic wilt? Or... expire?  
“I got this problem, see... I’m a snowman, so I can’t move. I’m kinda, _affixed to tha ground,_ y’know?”  
If you had a carrot, you’d replace that thing. But you don’t, so you guess there’s nothing you can do.  
“But this clearing, it’s... well, it SUCKS! I can’t go anywhere, I can’t _see_ anything, just the same stuff, same old snow, same old trees, day after day... it STINKS. I’m bored ta _hell_ here! An’ the only time anything EXCITING ever happens is when some hooligan _kids_ come to mess around with me and shit. I mean, the hell’s up with that?!”  
It’s not even majorly crooked, just enough to notice. Somehow that irritates you the most. If you could just...  
“So I was thinkin’... Whoa, hey, what the... Why are you touching my face? Get the _hell_ outta my face!”  
You fix the nose, despite his protests. He stops, cross-eyed from staring at it, then grumbles.  
“Ya coulda warned me, ya bitch...”  
Is that a gendered insult for once, or does he use that on everyone? Somehow you get the feeling it’s the latter. You’re sensing a cultural difference here...  
“S-sorry... It was really distracting. What were you saying again?”  
“Did you hear _any_ of what I just said?”  
“Uh... Well... Kinda? I mean...”  
 _“You bitch.”_  
“Hey, that’s... Is that really necessary? I thought you needed my help?”  
 _“I don’t give a shit, you can help me, alright. By sucking my snow dick, you bitch!”_  
“How would that even work, wouldn’t it melt?”  
“What? No, I...”  
“And you don’t even have one, wouldn’t that be hard to make?”  
“Look, I was just...”  
“I mean, even assuming it wouldn’t fall off, wouldn’t you need, like, magic snow, or...”  
 _“I was being figurative, shut the fuck up!”_  
You grin innocently.  
“You were saying?”  
“ _Ugh._ I already regret this...”  
“Don’t worry, I’m WAY better at helping people than I am at talking to them! Now... what do you need?”  
You get the feeling he would be shaking his head, if he could move. As it is, his mouth twitches.  
“Look, I’m trapped here, alright? I’d really like to travel the world, get a change a scenery, or whatever, I just... I’m TIRED a this place. But I can’t leave. Even if I weren’t frozen here, I’d melt anywhere else. Snowdin’s the only place safe for me down here. But you... you’re a human. You’re headed for New Home, right? Gonna kill the King and hightail it outta here, am I right?”  
“Ah, well... actually...”  
“Right. So, if you take a piece a me with you, then a piece a me will be on the surface. I won’t be able to see out of it, or anything, but I’ll be able to sense it, which is somethin’. So, what’dya say? Help a brother out?”  
...Do you really want a piece of this rude sentient pile of snow in your inventory?  
“Alright,” you sigh. You’re too nice for this place, you really are. “Just... tell me where to take it from, alright? And don’t be gross!” You add the last part quickly, because you don’t like his expression.  
“Fine, spoil my fun, why don’t you...” He grumbles. “Just... take a piece from my side, doesn’t have to be big...”  
You carefully scoop out a handful of snow, packing it together into a snowball.  
“Yeah, that’ll do,” he grunts. “Now pack in some a that snow over there, so the others don’t get any _ideas._ ”  
Snowball now safely tucked away in your inventory, you do as he says.  
“There, good as new. Can you... can you feel that? I mean, does it, become a _part_ of you, or...?”  
“Does it matter? Just... get out a here. You’ve got a journey to complete. If you survive, that is... I doubt it. Doesn’t matter. At least it’ll be _something_ different. So... thanks for that, I guess.”  
“You’re... welcome?”  
“Well? Stop gawkin’ and get movin’!”  
You roll your eyes as you leave. On the one hand, you’re grateful this encounter was a short one. On the other, what a jerk! And you gave up precious inventory space for that guy!  
“Do I need to say it?”  
“Too nice for my own good? For once, I agree with you.”  
“Glad to hear it.”  
All too soon, you’re back where you started... facing east, and with it, Snowdin Town.  
You hear the brothers before you see them.  
“WELL, YOU’RE SO LAZY, YOU WERE NAPPING ALL LAST NIGHT, I _CHECKED!”_  
“It’s called SLEEPING. And what the hell were you doin’ in my room, anyway?!”  
“CHECKING UP ON _YOU,_ YOU LOUSY, UNGRATEFUL- Oh. Oho~ So the human has finally arrived! I hope you’re prepared, human! In order to stop you, I have prepared a veritable _gauntlet_ of puzzles, each more terrifying and difficult than the last!”  
“I was there, too.”  
_“Sans, don’t interrupt my speech._ AHEM. I think you will find this _particular_ puzzle... _quite shocking!!_ For you see, this, is the invisible... _electricity maze!!_ When you touch the walls of this maze, this orb will deliver a lethal _zap._ Sound like fun? Because it most certainly will be... _for me!! Nyehehehehehe~”_  
You swallow thickly. You had expected dangerous, but not _lethal._ Whatever plans you had of stumbling away from this with pie-curable injuries just went out the window... which means your usual method of trial and error went with it. And unfortunately, a quick glance over the puzzle reveals nothing useful that could provide a clue in your hour of need. You realize you gamble with it a lot, but you only have one life!  
The maze consists of a large area of stamped down snow, forming a perfect square that stretches from one end of the cliff face to the other, leaving only a narrow path on either side by which to skirt around it. And in case you thought you could be an edgy bitch like Sans and do exactly that, Papyrus’ fences are as impenetrable here as they were in the forest. There’s a single gate through it, to your right, but it’s visibly locked.  
You wonder how many padlock keys Papyrus has on him at any given time...  
You look down at Flowey.  
“You wanna sit this one out?”  
He nods, and disappears into the jacket. You can’t see him, but you can feel him winding his way down your body to the earth below. Roots extend into the snow and sink through to the permafrost underneath, and then he’s pulling away from you, and it’s done. You look down at him, already beginning to shiver by your feet. He gives you one last, worried glance, and you offer him what you hope is a reassuring smile. It must have worked, because quickly, but not without some effort, he sinks even further and vanishes entirely from sight. You feel a flash of betrayal. He’s gone.  
Your brief moment of loneliness is broken by Papyrus’ sputtering.  
“Wha-What was that? Who was that?! How long have they been there?!” He notices the stares he’s receiving from both you and his brother, and quickly draws himself up to his full height and coughs loudly, as if clearing a throat that isn’t there. “I do hope you realize these puzzles are built for _one_ puzzler _only._ Any outside help, plant or otherwise, is strictly prohibited!”  
“Sorry... Won’t happen again.”  
“Good. You may proceed.”  
“Hold on...” You reluctantly shrug off Sans’ jacket and immediately regret it. “Where... uh, where do you want me to...?”  
“Just drop it. Anywhere’s good. I’ll get it later.” He shrugs, and Papyrus makes a sound of disgust. You hesitantly comply, letting the fabric slip to the ground in a crumpled, black heap. You resist the urge to retrieve it and throw it back over your shoulders again by adjusting your scarf to better protect your neck and face. It’s not much, but it’s the best you can do.  
“Typical... You won’t even use _magic_ unless you absolutely have to!!”  
“Ehh, it’ll be fine. A little snow won’t hurt it.”  
Papyrus groans. You step up to the puzzle, hugging yourself to ease the shivering.  
“Are you ready _now,_ human?”  
You nod, and turn your attention back to the puzzle, examining it as carefully as you can from the sidelines. There isn’t a single mark in the snow, and you can feel a panic attack coming on when suddenly...  
“OH!”  
“What? What is it now?”  
“S-sorry, it’s, just, uh... I just remembered, that, well... I ran into this young snowdrake on the way here, and I was just wondering, if they were in the Royal Guard, since they were, really tough, and all...”  
“JUST. SOLVE. THE PUZZLE.”  
You swallow.  
“Right...”  
You step hesitantly closer, hoping and praying that the puzzle will do _something_ to reveal the answer, and that your first move won’t be your last.  
“Wait.”  
_“Sans, this had better be good or I swear I’ll...”_  
“Bro... You’re holding the orb.”  
“What? AH! D-DON’T MOVE, HUMAN! Just a moment...”  
Despite his orders, the sudden outburst startles you into stepping back. The padlock knocks against the wood of the fence and clanks against the chain holding it in place, and finally slides away as Papyrus hurriedly unlocks the gate and bounds over to you. He shoves the orb into your hands, and you scramble to get a grip on it, as it threatens to slip through your fingers. You doubt you’ll walk out of this alive if you drop it. Then he’s gone, running swiftly back the way he came, stopping only to lock and double-check the gate behind him. Doesn’t look like you’ll be sneaking after him any time soon...  
You examine the orb. Arcs of electricity are crackling inside, jumping to meet your fingertips through the glass. It reminds you of a toy from the surface. The only difference is that this orb sounds louder and harsher than those toys, and you have a sneaking suspicion that it houses a much higher voltage than they do, not to mention a higher capacity for pain and _death._  
You try to swallow, but your mouth has gone completely dry. Instead of easing the knot in your throat, you only succeed in making it feel as though one side were sticking to the other, which makes things infinitely worse. Dread settles into the pit of your stomach as you ease your way back to the edge of the puzzle, hoping desperately that this is, legitimately, a puzzle, and not just a trap. The only thing you have to go by is the orb, so you figure the orb itself must be the clue. Maybe it will signal you somehow when you’re on the right path, or about to hit a wall? You concentrate on it as you near the shift in the snow.  
Huh... Is it just you, or does the crackling sound... different, all of a sudden?  
You step back experimentally, and hold the orb up to your ear, as close as you can manage without wincing at the volume of it. Sure enough, the zapping within is fainter, less harsh.  
 _Okay. I can work with this!_  
You make your way along the edge of the puzzle to your left, which should be to the north, until you reach the end and begin to work your way back down. You can hear Papyrus fidgeting as you go, but you can’t risk moving any faster; you need to be sure. Finally, the noise subsides to a dull crackling, and you pass the orb in front of you until you locate the edge of the path, before moving further south until you locate the other edge, in the same manner. You almost sigh in relief, but this is only the beginning, and the knot in your stomach is only going to pull tighter.  
You step cautiously along the “passage” of the maze until the orb indicates that you have run into a wall. You then turn north, and sure enough, this seems to be the way. You nearly walk the entire length of the puzzle before you reach another wall, and turn east, where the path leads you towards the brothers. You can see them there, at the edge of your field of vision, but you can’t risk the distraction. It’s deathly quiet, but for the electric noise of the orb.  
You end up turning south, but encounter another wall only a few steps down, before you find yourself twisting west, back towards your own, faint footsteps in the snow. You stop just before you reach them, of course, but as soon as the path turns south again you start to notice a pattern, and begin to form a mental map of the steps you have taken thus far...  
_It’s a giant “P,” isn’t it?_  
 _Did... did he seriously...?_  
 _Is this some kind of joke?_  
Apparently not, because you walk all the way down until the path you’re on runs parallel to your entry point, and, lo and behold, the rest of the path leads straight to the east... and right to the boots of Papyrus himself.  
It feels good to let the knot in your stomach relax, and you can feel yourself grinning like an idiot, despite the cold and your sore stomach muscles. It feels like you’ve just exercised muscles deep in your gut that you didn’t even know you _had,_ and yet you feel _great!_ Probably better than you’ve ever been! Of course, that could just be the _adrenaline_ talking...  
You hand him the orb. He stares at it for a moment, as though processing what to do with it, and then it disappears. He straightens, looming over you. _God, how tall even is he?_ At least six feet, that’s for sure. Probably taller.  
“AMAZING! You slippery slug!! You solved it so easily!” His eyes narrow as he looks at you. “ _Too_ easily...” You wrap your arms around yourself and squeeze, trying to fight off the cold and the wild thumping of your heart. “HOWEVER!” You resist the urge to rub your stinging ears. “The next puzzle will not be so easy! It has been designed by my brother, Sans. You will surely be confounded! I know I am!”  
He cackles, and abruptly twirls on the heels of his boots, swishes his scarf over his shoulder, and marches out of the clearing. _Theatrical as always..._ At least he seems happy.  
You approach Sans. He’s staring in the direction of his brother’s departure, an unreadable expression on his face. You can’t tell if he’s confused, pleased, or concerned. Maybe even a little afraid. You grin.  
“Surprised yet?”  
“Huh. You actually survived.”  
“I told you I would.”  
He shrugs. You hug yourself tighter, and shiver, marching in place to warm your legs. You catch something big and black out of your peripheral vision, and when you look up, you recognize it as Sans’ jacket. He’s holding it out to you, but his face is turned away. You’d question his motives, but who are you to look a gift horse in the mouth?  
You mumble a quick _thanks,_ and throw it over your shoulders without a second thought. It doesn’t even occur to you to question how he got it over here when you weren’t looking. You’re just thankful to be... well, _slightly_ warmer? The jacket’s actually kind of cold, now that it’s been sitting in the snow for a few minutes... but at least it’ll warm up soon, and you won’t freeze to death! What a _disappointment_ that would be, after surviving _this._  
“Don’t mention it. And, uh... thanks. For playing along, I mean.” He shifts awkwardly in place, one hand rubbing the hood of his jacket, where his neck would be. “Paps’ having the time of his life... I haven’t seen him so happy since he was inducted into the Royal Guard.”  
“Well, I _do_ like puzzles!”  
“Even ones that can kill you?” His eyebrow is raised, but his tone is teasing. You grin.  
“ _Especially_ then.”  
He shakes his head, but his smile is wider, more genuine, for just a moment.  
“It’s your funeral, kid. So long as I get my jacket back, I don’t care _what_ you’re into.”  
“You just want your money back,” you tease. You’re rewarded with a casual one-shoulder shrug.  
“Maybe,” he says. “Or maybe I’m just a really good brother.”  
“Sure,” you say innocently. “Wouldn’t want your precious bro to miss out on goring his new play toy, just because some other monster couldn’t help but jump the gun.”  
“Exactly.”  
“Gotta admit, I’m not surprised you’re a cheat, but I’m a little surprised you would offer your own _armor_ to the enemy.”  
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.”  
“And betting against the home team? For _shame._ I thought you _wanted_ to see the surface?”  
“You come up with some wild accusations, don’t you, Sweetheart? I don’t give a _shit_ about the Underground, and I give even _fewer_ shits about the surface. It’s just another cave to me, albeit a cave without a ceiling.”  
“Well that’s... depressing,” you frown. He chuckles humorlessly.  
“That’s _life._ And it’s gonna be shitty, no matter _where_ you’re at. Besides, war’s messy. Does it _look_ like I have time for that shit?” He doesn’t wait for an answer. “Bad for business.”  
You don’t know how to respond to that.  
“Isn’t your business capturing humans? Aren’t you supposed to be, with your brother? Preparing my doom? Or is this gonna be another one of those times where you break all known laws of physics just to fuck with my head?”  
“The laws of physics? I don’t think those can be broken, kid.” _What a shit-eating grin._  
“Okay, one: that’s bullshit, and you know it. Two: since when do you obey the law? And three: I’m not a kid. Don’t call me that. It’s creepy.”  
“I call a lot of people a lot of things, kid, you could do a lot worse. But if you insist, _Dollface._ ”  
“See, that’s a _familiar_ kind of creepy, I can handle that. The kid thing is like, a totally different _brand_ of weird, and I’m not sure I’m buying it.”  
He snorts.  
“You’re one to talk about weird, Doll.”  
“You’re one to complain. It’s kept me alive, hasn’t it?”  
“Eh. Humans are all a little weird. Never saved _them._ ”  
“There’s a first time for everything.” Your smile seems to unnerve him. You briefly consider the possibility that genuine emotion is like mace to monsters. This warrants further testing.  
“Just get moving. The puzzle’s nearby, but knowing you, it’s going to take you all day to get there.”  
“Probably,” you agree. “But, uh... thanks. For... you know.” You shrug to indicate all of the things you might have said, glancing down at the jacket as you do so. Sure enough, sweat beads on his skull, and he starts to turn red.  
“Don’t mention it. _I mean it, don’t._ ”  
“My lips are sealed,” you laugh. And this time, it’s you that walks away, following the trail of large boot prints Papyrus left behind. “Try not to stare at my ass, okay?”  
You hear strained laughter behind you, and Sans’ voice mumble something like _can’t make any promises._ You grin.  
 _That’s what you get for being a little shit._  
You suspected Flowey was watching you, and your suspicions prove correct as you enter the next clearing to find him peeking from behind a clump of snow and shivering. To your left, however, is an... ice cream cart? _Here?_ He can’t be serious...  
The cart has a large black and yellow umbrella attached to it, shielding most of the cart from the snowfall. Leaning against it is a blue monster with long, bunny-like ears that are tilted back in an angry posture. He has a blue lock of hair over his left eye. His uniform is a plain black polo shirt, with V.C stitched where you assume his heart to be, in bright yellow thread. If it wasn’t for the red suspenders and the matching denim of his pants, he’d look almost professional. He wears no shoes, which nearly makes you cringe. You realize he’s got fur, but logic like that never seemed to stop monsters before.  
His posture and expression aren’t the only aspects of him that scream danger... He’s nursing a bottle in one hand, and you’re pretty sure that’s a gun and holster at his hip. He doesn’t seem to notice you at first, grimacing in irritation as he takes another swig from the bottle. He breathes out a few curses after he swallows, before noticing you standing there, staring at him. His _accessories_ glint as he turns towards; nothing extravagant, just a few metal studs in one ear, the other ear torn at the end, as if something or _someone_ had snagged whatever earring had been there and _pulled._ The collar around his neck is simple, just black leather and a small silver buckle. You’re honestly kind of surprised to see someone look so, _normal..._ gothic, yes, but not in the gaudy, over-the-top style that Papyrus wears. Even Sans is a bit excessive, with all that ridiculous fluff, and the one gold tooth... though you suppose you can’t really judge him for that. The skeleton brothers are naturally scary, anyway. This guy, though dangerous, is probably more interested in scamming you than he is in killing you.  
Sure enough, though his grin is predatory and his hands are suddenly toying with a knife that was _definitely_ not there a moment ago, you soul does not leave your body. Menacing though he may be, this monster is not a threat to you. You swallow your fear, and force yourself to step forward.  
“H-hey!” You offer him a pathetic little wave, with the sleeve of Sans’ jacket. It serves as more of a signal that you want to talk than a greeting, since you honestly have no idea what to say. Do you even want ice cream in this weather?  
What are you saying, of course you do. It’s _magic._  
“Why, _hello there!”_ He purrs. “It’s not every day you see a _human_ traipsing about these woods!”  
“So I’ve heard...”  
“Why, you must be _famished_ after all that walking!”  
“I... am a little peckish...”  
“You know what you need? Something cold, for a little _vigor!”_  
“Um...”  
“I’ve got JUST the thing!” His teeth are white and sharp and feral, and you can’t help but wonder if there isn’t a single flat-toothed herbivore in all of the Underground. Before you can think any further, the ice cream man has fished out a, surprisingly dark blue, wrapper. Printed across it, in golden letters, are the words...  
“ **Vice Cream!** An ice cold treat for an ice cold heart! A free insult on every wrapper! Keep that rage simmering! Now just 30g! What d’ya say?”  
“O-oh, um...” You should’ve expected a price like that. “That’s... well... It’s a little _cold_ out here, isn’t it?”  
He beams.  
“Yes! It is! It’s the PERFECT weather for Vice Cream!”  
“For an ice monster, maybe...”  
His grin falters and twists down into a sneer.  
“Well if you don’t like it, then take it to WATERFALL and eat it!” He stops. “Hey, that’s not a bad idea... more people, too... bigger town...”  
“I would go to Hotland, if I were you...”  
“Oh, so now you’re a business expert, are you?”  
“N-no, but...”  
“Why don’t you mind your own _business_ then, and let me worry about mine!” He shoves the ice cream into your hands with enough force to make you react instinctively, clutching it hard enough to feel a flash of fear. The treat inside, however, is frozen completely solid. You don’t think you could dent it if you _tried._  
“Now pay up.”  
“B-but...”  
“I’m sorry, _what was that?”_ The knife flashes as he plays with it, as if distracted by the gleam. You know better. He brings the blade up towards you as you take a step back, hands up in a placating manner. “I thought you were going to turn down a _perfectly good Vice Cream_ for a second there...”  
You gulp.  
“W-what, in this weather?” You smile shakily.  
“Well?” He holds out his hand, for his payment.  
“Ah... W-well... You know... 30 gold seems a bit excessive, for such a small treat...”  
“Small?!” He looks equal parts shocked and insulted.  
“W-well, a single popsicle isn’t going to last long, is it? And the production cost _can’t_ be that high...”  
“You got a problem with me makin’ a profit, is that it?”  
“N-no! Of course not!”  
“Well? What is it, then?!”  
“It’s... it’s UNPROFESSIONAL!” You shock yourself with your outburst, but it’s too late to back out now. “You’d sell MORE ice creams...”  
“Vice Creams!  
“ _...Vice Creams,_ FASTER, and for MORE MONEY if you sold them at a LOWER PRICE! As it is, you’re out here in the woods, surrounded by snow, and I’m sorry, but I don’t exactly see a line out here!”  
_Uh-oh._ You can feel yourself teetering on the brink of a fight, which is the last thing you need right now, with Sans’ puzzle coming up. You have no idea what to expect, but you have a feeling his bet with Toriel extends only to keeping you alive, and not to keeping you _unharmed,_ or at the very least un-pranked.  
For a moment, you really expect to be attacked. But to your surprise, the Vice Cream guy actually shifts away from you, leaning back and eyeing you carefully. The feeling of imminent danger fades as he leans back against the cart.  
“Alright. What do you suggest?”  
“What?” You’re too startled to think of anything else to say.  
“The _price,_ dumbass. You wanted to haggle, haggle with me.”  
“Oh, uh...” What’s the lowest you could get away with, without pissing him off? “15?”  
“15?! That’s a full _half_ of the asking price! What are we, married?!”  
“ _Each._ Make it 15 _each_ and I’ll buy two, that earns you the same as one at asking price, and I’ll have one to share with a friend.”  
“Or you could pay 20 each, for a total of 40, which is still a _damn_ good bargain.”  
“I don’t have 40 gold, and if I did I’d use it for... a room at an inn, or something. They have those in Snowdin, right?”  
“If you don’t have 40 gold, why are we talking about it?” He sneers. “I could just as easily kill you, take all your gold, and _keep_ the two Vice Creams.”  
“Well that’d be bad for business. Who’s gonna tell everyone about the ice cream in the woods if you kill all your customers? Not worth the coin, if you ask me.”  
“Fine.” He looks you up and down. It makes you a little uncomfortable. “You make a valid argument. But I’m _not_ cutting my profits in _half._ What’ve you got?”  
“32,” you admit. He huffs.  
“So be it. 16 each, and that’s _final._ ”  
“...” You have to admit, it isn’t as though you have a choice. Two gold isn’t worth the fight, and you’re curious about those wrappers. You turn yours over to see the black lettering on the back.  
 _You aren’t even worth the ink of printing this._  
That brings a smile to your lips, which seems to baffle him.  
“Alright, deal.” You reach out a hand to shake, but he turns around and pulls another wrapper out instead, opting to give that to you instead of touch you. You put both ice creams in your inventory and reach into Sans’ pocket, on a whim. Sure enough, it doesn’t seem to matter what pocket you use; your hand comes out with a fistful of coins, which the Vice Cream guy is all too happy to accept.  
“Thanks for your purchase! Now _fuck off._ ”  
You giggle, turning towards the wooden bridge at the end of the clearing.  
“Thanks for the food!”  
“Humans are a bunch of freaks,” he mutters. But there isn’t much bite to his words.  
You aren’t even surprised to see Sans standing up ahead, nor are you startled by Flowey’s emergence from the snow, although the tiny spray of powder he kicks up is a cute touch. He shakes the snow off his petals, and you wait patiently for him to settle back into his place in the jacket. You shudder as his freezing vines wrap around you, but once he’s in place he quickly starts to warm up again. You try to push away your own discomfort... _Imagine what he must be feeling!_  
The only thing between you and Sans is a large snowball, which wouldn’t be all that strange if the snow around it hadn’t been cleared away, leaving an odd, misshapen clearing in its wake. You can’t imagine what it could be for, until you begin to cross it. Your eyes follow the “path” as it turns to the south, elongating into a golf course of sorts. _Is this some kind of game?_  
You’re about to ask, when Sans speaks up first.  
“Hello, valued customer!”  
_Fuck._  
“I don’t have any money...”  
“Oh?”  
“I gave it all to the ice cream man with the knife.”  
“What a shame.” He says, sounding not at all surprised. “And me with a fresh batch of fried snow, ready to go and on sale, today only.”  
“Fried snow?” _Is that like fried ice cream?_  
“Yep, just 10g. Tell ya what...” His grin widens a fraction of an inch, and you think you can guess what’s coming. “You seem trustworthy enough, so I’ll let you put it on your tab.”  
“Ah. How generous.”  
“Wouldn’t do it for just anyone.” He winks. How a skeleton is able to wink continues to baffle you.  
“That’s so kind of you.”  
“Hey, we’re friends, right?”  
“.....” You squint at him, trying to decide if you should rise to the challenge or not. You kind of just want to see how he would react. “Alright.”  
“Alright?”  
“Alright, let’s do this. Gimme the goods.”  
He gives you a look, but it’s not the expression of shock you were hoping for. He seems to know what you’re up to, and plays along.  
“Okay, but I hope you know I’m gonna have to charge you interest.”  
“In what? I already have an interest in bugs.”  
His grin widens even further, which you suspect wouldn’t be possible if he were an ordinary human being. He reaches out and dumps a clump of snow into your waiting hand. _Just as expected._  
“This is quality snow.”  
“Only the best.”  
“Isn’t this supposed to be fried?”  
“Oh, you couldn’t _afford_ the pre-made stuff.”  
You laugh, and suddenly... an idea! You bring your hand to you lips, and blow. There isn’t much powder left in the pile, but there’s enough to fly up into his face and catch him off guard. _Finally!_  
He narrows his eyes at you as you laugh, slowly and deliberately wiping the snow from his face.  
“Yer gonna pay for that.”  
“I know, just as soon as-“ You stop. Something looms over you, and the flare of magic around Sans’ eye tells you you’re not gonna like it... You look up anyway. Your eyes widen. “Wait...”  
Too late. A small avalanche comes crashing down, with you shrieking all the while.  
“SAAAANS!”  
“AAAAHAHAHAHAHAHAAA!”  
The snow is _heavy,_ and it knocks you off balance just enough to send you, arms wheeling, to the ground. If anything, Sans just laughs harder. You huff, murmuring curses under your breathe as you struggle to get up, slipping once before you manage to regain your feet. He wipes a red tear from his eye as he chuckles breathlessly. Do skeletons even need to breathe?  
“I demand a refund.” You place your hands on your hips for full effect. He shrugs.  
“Sorry, Doll. A deal’s a deal.”  
You huff, but can’t stop the smile from pulling at your lips.  
“Jerk. Where am I headed, anyway?”  
“Down there,” he nods to the golf course. “Knowing you, you’ll spend an hour alone playing the game before you get there. Which wouldn’t be a problem, except I can only stall my bro for so long, and I’ve got 40g says you need to make it _past_ Snowdin or no deal.”  
You roll your eyes.  
“I’ll be _fine._ Just tell him I got caught up playing the game. Or, no, wait! Tell him... Tell him I was _scouting!_ For possible escape routes, if things go wrong!”  
“Suit yourself,” he says, shaking his head. “I’m just gonna stay here, you know... in case somebody with a little cash comes along.”  
“You do that.” You step past him, as much in curiosity as in spite.  
“Puzzle’s that way.”  
“Uh-huh.”  
As you walk, you try to figure out how to remove Toriel’s plate of pie from your inventory. It certainly isn’t going to come out of your pocket! ...Is it?  
 _It does._  
So apparently the items can appear as your hand is _leaving_ the pocket, which is good to know. You stomach has been complaining for a while now, and you’re much too cold to eat ice cream. Miraculously, the pie is even a bit warm, which is more than you could have hoped for in this weather. Does your inventory have a temperature? Maybe not.  
She even thought to pack forks, _two_ of them, which was really sweet of her, and after a day of nothing but monster candies, the pie tastes like sweet, sweet _relief._ It’s a little difficult to carry the plate, walk, and eat, all at the same time, but you manage. The ground has been sloping upwards for a while now, and your slow pace has been all that’s kept you from running out of breathe.  
You offer some to Flowey, but he shakes his head, excusing himself with a quiet _later._ You pause at the edge of the cliff for a moment, chewing slowly as you look down at the valley of pure white below. You can no longer hear the water on the other side, but when you stop by the opposite, left side of the path, you find yourself looking down at an _immense_ drop, and far below, you can see the river continuing to wind its way through the Underground. You wonder idly if it’s connected at all to the stream in the Ruins.  
Once you’re done with your slice of pie, which goes quickly, despite your best efforts to savor it, you place the remaining five back in your inventory. It’s kind of touching that she didn’t even keep one for herself, but you suppose she can always bake another one...  
 _Hang on. Is that...?_  
Turning around reveals movement from across the valley, on a cliff set lower than the one you’re on. You’d assumed it to be where you were headed later, but there hadn’t been anything of interest there. Now, though, you think you catch a flash of red and black moving around... Is that Papyrus, pacing while he waits? Better hurry up then.  
You feel strangely calm after having eaten, and even if it’s not a proper meal, your stomach still thanks you for it. Papyrus’ impatience is the furthest thing from your mind as you approach the two sentry stations perched together, high above the valley. They’re identical, both to each other and to Doggo’s station, with the exception being the figureheads, which aren’t smoking. They look like the wolf on his shirt, now that you think of it. There’s also a sign between them, and labels carved into the wooden panels below the counter. _His_ and _Hers._ Are they a couple?  
Thankfully, the guards aren’t at their posts right now. It isn’t much of a comfort, considering they’re probably out looking for you, but then it’s entirely possible that Papyrus didn’t report you to them. He doesn’t seem like the type to share the glory. Maybe they’re out patrolling?  
The sign here is the first to have colored lettering on it, and it quickly draws your attention away from your worries. With any luck, you won’t meet them at all. But what are the chances of _that_ happening?  
_DANGER SMELL RATING_  
 _Snow smell – Snowman. White rating. Check sentience before eating. Can become yellow rating._  
 _Unsuspicious smell – Puppy. Blue rating. Smell of rolling around._  
 _Weird smell – Human. Green rating. Destroy at all costs!_  
 _Mustard smell – Sans. Red rating. Do NOT attack. Attacking will result in a swat on the nose, effective immediately._  
Both “green” and “red” are colored incorrectly, which makes you snort. But the fact that Sans is mentioned by name gives you pause... You doubt he has any real authority, or his brother would have mentioned it. Right?  
“Why’s Sans on here?”  
“Because he harasses the guards, that’s why. They have to be reminded that he’s not a _chew toy,_ because if they lose their temper, they’ll _kill_ him.”  
“For playing pranks on them?”  
“He has 1 HP.”  
You stop and stare at him to see if he’s joking, but he’s dead serious. Come to think of it, you vaguely remember Papyrus mentioned something like that, but you hadn't thought... _1 HP, total?_ You feel your eyebrows beginning to rise.  
“...And... how much do I have, for scale?”  
“20.”  
_Wow._  
“Oh,” you say finally. _That’s... a lot to take in._  
“Yeah, ‘oh.’” Flowey huffs. “He’s got 1 ATK and 1 DEF, too. He’s _literally_ the weakest monster in the Underground, statistically speaking.”  
“Good thing he’s fast,” you murmur, staring back the way you came. He’s still there, and you have no idea if he can hear you or not, but if he does he doesn’t show it.  
“It’s not just that.” Flowey sighs. “Just... pray you never have to fight him. I mean, REALLY fight him. I can’t even remember how long it’s been since he took a fight seriously.”  
“Hm.” Rather than acknowledge and expand on the fact that your only ally out here might secretly be an eldritch horror in disguise, you decide to change the subject to something more... palatable. “So, A.T.K and def, huh?”  
“Yeah... They’re... acronyms. Like LV was.”  
“Speaking of,” you frown. “You said LV stands for love, but that doesn’t make a lot of sense if it rises when you kill people. Wanna explain all this game slang for me while we walk?”  
“Not now. Later. You need to focus on what’s ahead of you. If you get distracted, you’ll die. The closer we get to town, the more monsters we’ll run into, and most, if not all of them, will be hostile. Your best bet once we reach Snowdin will be to pull the hood up, keep your head down, and hope no one notices you’re not Sans.”  
“But I’ll drown in fluff!” You protest, before stopping abruptly as you near him. It’d be rude to gossip about him within hearing distance.  
“I can hear you, you know. And the weed’s right, most of Snowdin would leave you alone, if you were a _kid,_ but as an adult? They’ll eat you alive, laws be damned.”  
“Law?”  
“It’s more of a tradition,” Flowey interjects. “Monsters don’t play well with others, so the King issued a proclamation many years ago that public fighting would be forbidden in any and all cities and towns under monster rule. Of course, this was after the war, so humans were never mentioned...”  
“And I think most monsters would agree that makes ‘em fair game. So you’re shit outta luck, Sweetheart.”  
“You PROBABLY won’t be killed,” Flowey glares at him. “Between Papyrus and Undyne, chances are good they’ll deliver you to the guard ALIVE...”  
“So THEY can kill you.”  
Flowey’s expression seems to flicker, allowing just a glimpse of his scary face before he reigns himself in.  
“...To avoid incurring their wrath.”  
“Because THEY wanted to kill you.”  
“ANYWAYS... Undyne lives in Waterfall, and prefers not to visit Snowdin unless she has to, since it’s so cold, SO...” He raises his voice to drown out Sans’ attempt to interrupt. “All you’ll REALLY have to contend with is Papyrus, and you’re already doing that. You’ll be _fine._ ”  
“Unless someone realizes that with _your_ soul, they wouldn’t have to _worry_ about the Royal Guard.”  
“ _Thanks._ You’ve been helpful.”  
“Anytime.”  
As Flowey seethes quietly by your ear, you turn your attention to the game. Given the layout of it, you assume it’s going to be a lot like golf... you get the ball in the hole, and you win.  
You push the snowball a little with your foot. To your surprise, it rolls effortlessly, coming to a stop a few feet away. It also starts _beeping._  
“Um... Why is it doing that?”  
“It’s supposed to do that,” Sans calls. “It’s part of the fun.”  
“WHAT’S part of the fun?” You eye the snowball suspiciously, as the sound gets louder and faster until...  
 **BOOM.**  
“You have to keep the ball moving or it explodes,” Flowey explains quickly. You look between him and the black mark where the snowball used to be. You make no attempt to mask your abject horror, because this is _ridiculous_ and who even made this game?!  
“I actually used to play this with my sibling...” He smiles fondly, and you furrow your brow at him.  
 _“Seriously?”_  
“It’s less dangerous than the people who play it!”  
“Ain’t that the truth.”  
As you stare at the two of them, a soft _clink_ catches your attention. Turning reveals another snowball, just rolling to a stop... exactly where its predecessor was moments before.  
You are filled with _determination._  
Unfortunately, the ball is a lot more slippery than you’d expected, and after several explosions and several close calls, diving towards or away from the ball, and listening to Sans choke and gasp on laughter the entire time, you finally resort to slowly tapping the ball with your foot and directing it, a foot or so at a time, towards the end of the track. There, you carefully avoid the ice patch in its southwest corner, and finally, blessedly, push the ball into the hole at the end. You’re rewarded with a small _ding_ and a blue flag rising from it, with a note attached.  
_Blue – Your cowardice is appalling, but it has nonetheless led you to victory. Congratulations on achieving the end of “Bomb.”_  
 _That will be 2g._  
“2g? Do I have to pay for this?”  
“Only if you suck at it.” Flowey smirks.  
_ERROR._  
 _Funds insufficient._  
 _Initiating alternate payment._  
“Alterna- OW.”  
You clutch your stinging face and glare incredulously at the cartoonish gloved fist that is currently retracting back into the hole.  
“The hell was _that?!”_  
Sans wheezes.  
“I take it back, this is _so worth_ the 40g!”  
“At least _someone’s_ enjoying themselves,” you glare at him.  
“Actually,” Flowey snickers. “I’m kind of enjoying this, too.”  
“Oh, _come on!”_  
“I haven’t even seen anyone GET the blue flag in ages... and the last person to not have the gold, it must’ve been _years!”_ He laughs. “Reminds me when Chara used to... Oh.” His face falls. “Well... It’s not important...”  
“Chara?” Sans’ laughter stops abruptly. “Did you say _Chara?”_  
“That’s none of your...”  
“How old _are_ you, kid?”  
“That’s enough,” you give him a warning look. “He doesn’t have to talk about it if he doesn’t want to. Besides, monsters age differently, right? Tori’s older than the Ruins, and she doesn’t even look that old.”  
“That’s ‘cause her kids are _dead. Adults_ age differently. Kids...”  
“What do you know,” Flowey hisses. “You don’t know what I’ve been through. You don’t know me!”  
“Alright, that’s enough...”  
“It ain’t _natural..._ ”  
“Boys...”  
“Don’t talk to _me_ about _natural,_ you...”  
“BOYS.” You cross your arms, scarf fluttering as a small breeze blows by. It must’ve escaped the confines of the jacket while you were tumbling around the “Bomb” course. “That’s _enough._ Did it ever occur to you that magic is _weird_ and shit happens?”  
That seems to give them pause. Everything is quiet, until Sans breaks the silence with a dry laugh.  
“That’s actually a pretty good way of putting it.”  
Flowey grumbles in agreement.  
“There, see?” You grin. “Everybody has secrets. If you won’t share yours, don’t expect him to share his.”  
“Fair enough.” A harsh screaming rescues you from any more awkwardness, and some of the tension dissipates as you all turn to look at the path, where Papyrus can be heard cursing and stomping about. “Heh. Seems like my bro has about had it.”  
“Probably shouldn’t keep him waiting.”  
“Aw, a few more minutes couldn’t hurt... The REAL fun is just starting!”  
“SAAAAANS!”  
“Whelp. That’s my cue. Gotta go.”  
Your vision flickers black, and once again, he’s gone.  
“Coulda just walked,” you huff.  
You’re not jealous. Who said anything about being jealous, you _like_ walking places like a _normal person_ who doesn’t rely on teleportation to do normal everyday things like travel and prank people and _okay you’re insanely jealous that’s totally cool and it’s not fair._  
“Can humans use magic? I mean, I assume they can, or the barrier wouldn’t exist...”  
“Well, sure, humans have always been powerful and all, but as far as I gather it’s kind of a lost art for your kind,” Flowey says, with obvious relief. It’s clear that he’s more than ready to leave the former topic behind, so you take the time you have to learn more about the predicament you’re in. “Humans _can_ use magic, theoretically, but you don’t have a lot of it and it’s a lot harder for you to use and control. You kind of have to supplement it with sheer willpower, which is where human determination comes in handy. Unfortunately, the magically gifted humans seem to have died off a long time ago... Humans don’t need magic anymore, you have technology. Monsters are _made_ of magic, we’ll _always_ need it, so we never have to worry about losing it. But humans...”  
He trails away, just as Papyrus spots you.  
“AHA!” You jump. One day you’re going to have to talk to that guy about volume control. “IT’S ABOUT TIME! HUMAN!!! I hope you’re ready for... SANS!! Where’s the puzzle?!”  
“It’s right there. On the ground. Trust me, they’ll never get past this one. I made it _myself._ ”  
He doesn’t look convinced, but neither of them moves as you cautiously step towards the paper in the center of the clearing.  
Nothing happens. Well, you suppose a trap wouldn’t really constitute a puzzle, and it’s not Sans’ style to sabotage his own bet. You guess you should see what you’re dealing with here...  
_ggg gggggg gg._  
 _-gggg._  
Your eyes scan the page in disbelief.  
“What?” Sans asks, tone innocent. You continue to glare at him. “Need a pencil?”  
“You didn’t supply the human with a pencil?! Sans, you said your puzzle was fully functional!! How can you expect a puzzle to be solved if you do not supply all of the necessary parts to...”  
“Doesn’t matter, he made it unsolvable anyway.”  
“Hey, don’t blame me if you can’t figure it out. It's not my fault if you don’t like cryptograms.”  
_“Cryptograms?!”_ Papyrus looks scandalized. “You tried to stop the human with _cryptograms?!”_  
“What's wrong with cryptograms?"  
The brothers turn towards each other as they slide back into sibling mode. It's almost as if they've forgotten that you're there, but you know better. Besides... the only way past them is to go around them, and you doubt they'd take kindly to that.  
"I- I can't believe you just said that!! If you're going to challenge a _human_ with a puzzle, it should be a test of their _skills!"_  
"Decoding messages is a skill."  
"BAH! That's what robots and NERDS are for!" He waves dismissively, while Sans growls.  
"And what do YOU suggest I use instead?"  
"Anything but cryptograms! Something that tests an important skill, like... like watching for enemies! Maybe a word search, or a spot the difference..."  
" _Spot the difference?!_ Seriously? That's for baby bones!"  
"IT IS NOT!" You have to admit, those large boots make stomping much more intimidating and a lot less juvenile. "It teaches the mind to seek and to find! A critical skill for any member of the guard, none more so than the captain himself!"  
"Yeah, well last I checked, YOU weren't the captain."  
"I might as well be!! That title is as _good_ as mine!!"  
"Does _Undyne_ know that?"  
"....."  
"Yeah, that's what I thought."  
"WELL, AT LEAST I DON'T USE _CRYPTOGRAMS_ IN PLACE OF _REAL PUZZLES!"_  
"It's a PERFECTLY DECENT PUZZLE! It's like learning an enemy language, how is that NOT a critical wartime skill?"  
"W-well... At any rate, it makes for a terrible puzzle!!! Puzzles are supposed to be as difficult as they are _dangerous!"_  
"And 'spot the difference' is supposed to be dangerous?!"  
"It can be! If you squint at it hard enough!!"  
_Man,_ you wish you had some popcorn right now! And maybe some hot cocoa.  
"Alright then, why don't we let the human decide?" They meet one another's gaze for a long moment, as if issuing a challenge that Papyrus evidently decides to take.  
"HUMAN!!!" You freeze, heartbeat faltering as he whirls around and points at you. "Solve this dispute! Which is hardest, cryptograms, or spot the difference?"  
"Um..." _Talk about pressure!_ "They're... both... pretty hard..."  
 _"What?"_  
"You guys are morons, cryptograms are easy! I just write a 'z' over every letter... because it puts me to sleep! Nyeh heh heh heh!"  
"Uh..." You know what, correcting him probably isn't the best idea.  
"Well... At any rate, this has been informative! My brother cannot design puzzles for shit."  
 _"Hey!"_  
"Good thing the rest of the puzzles were all designed by ME, the great Papyrus! I hope you're ready, human! Because from here on out, the puzzles will only get deadlier! Nyeheheheheheh!"  
With a twirl of his cape, er, scarf, he spins on his heel and once again marches out of the clearing. You can hear his footsteps pick up speed as soon as he's out of sight, laughter echoing through the trees.  
"I can't believe you didn't pick a side."  
"I can't believe you two argue over _puzzles._ "  
"Paps lives and _breathes_ puzzles, what else would we argue about? That an' me bein' lazy... But, uh..." He scratches his cheekbone. "...Thanks. For... lyin' to make Paps happy."  
"You're welcome! But I really wasn't lying. I like all puzzles. I'm not a puzzle elitist." You place a hand over your heart and smile innocently.  
"Oh, come on! All you gotta do to spot the differences is _stare_ at it for a while! You can't stare the answer out of a cryptogram!"  
"You kind of can, actually... Cryptograms are all about finding patterns, and the best way to find patterns is to take a step back and..."  
"Yeah, yeah, alright, I get it."  
You smile.  
"Am I surprising you yet?"  
"Sure. I'm surprised you even survived the _surface._ "  
"That probably depends on your definition of 'survived.'"  
"I don't know about yours, but my definition is 'alive,' which you're not going to be if you keep my brother waiting. You're lucky he's so excited, or he would've killed you just for wasting his time."  
"I take it he's proud of the next few puzzles?"  
"Why wouldn't he be? He's proud of _everything_ he makes. Oh, and, speaking of which... Don't eat the spaghetti. Later!"  
You wonder how he does that flickering thing. Or if he even NEEDS to blind you to teleport. You feel like he doesn't. You feel like he's just messing with you. But then, what do you know? Apparently humans traded magic for technology centuries ago.  
"Well that went about as well as can be hoped," Flowey mutters, staring out over the scarf in the direction you're now headed.  
"I wonder when Toriel plans on calling us..." You fiddle with the end of the scarf as you walk.  
"She probably won't. Too dangerous. You'll have to call her when you get the chance, preferably once we get to town."  
"You worry _so_ much." You continue to smile.  
"You don't worry enough."  
"It's cute."  
"......"  
The next clearing you come to is empty, save for a table, a save point, and a microwave. There's a plate of spaghetti on the table, and a note from Papyrus that reads,  
_Human!! Please enjoy this spaghetti! You will need all your strength to tackle the puzzles I have in store for you! Nyeheheh!_  
 _(Little do you know, this spaghetti is a trap... designed to entice you!! You'll be so busy eating it, you won't notice that it's poisoned!! Thoroughly bested, by the awful Papyrus!)_  
 _Nyeh-heh-heh, Papyrus._  
You can't help it. Even when he's trying to kill you, he always makes you smile!  
"You're sick, you know that?"  
"Did you see how he signed it?"  
_"I saw it."_  
You giggle, trading the note for the fork lying on the table. You poke the spaghetti experimentally. It's frozen solid.  
There's a small cliff face rising from the northern banks of the clearing, and as you step away from the table, you notice there's another rat hole at the bottom of it. It's awfully cold out here, isn't it? What's a rat doing in a place like this? A rat seems more like a city dweller, to you. Well, you suppose igloos are pretty warm inside, it might not be so bad. Or maybe it just has thick fur?  
Last but not least is the microwave. There's a cord, but no outlet to plug it in, and bits of tape cover all of the settings. Each one is labeled 'death' in black sharpie.  
"Thank you, Chara," you sigh, crouching over the save point. "Uh.... That... doesn't bother you, does it?"  
"No," he smiles sadly. "Chara would have been glad to help."  
"Oh. Good."  
As you warm up, your gaze travels up to the top of the small cliff, where strange blue flowers grow out of the snow. They're half-wilted, but you still think they're beautiful. Anything able to survive in this cold is beautiful, in its own right. You take a moment to be thankful that the spaghetti is frozen... Hopefully the rat will not be able to eat it. It is a bit strange, though... How long has that spaghetti even been there? When did Papyrus even have time to MAKE spaghetti? Was it there before he met you? You shudder at the thought.  
_Definitely not eating that._  
Flowey is strangely quiet, and when you glance down to check on him, his face is half buried in the scarf. His eyes and petals are drooping. Seems you were right about him not sleeping enough. With any luck, he'll fall asleep on your shoulder while you walk. But the farther you get from the save point, the more unlikely that is to happen. The bracingly cold air _does_ seem to wake him as you pull away from it, and he begins to stir after a few minutes. As you watch, his mouth opens into a yawn filled with pointy teeth, and no less adorable for it.  
You will protect this flower.  
You will protect this flower _forever._  
You try to walk slowly out of the clearing, hoping not to jar him as you go. It's seems to work, as he sinks back into the scarf and closes his eyes. You smile as the snow crunches softly underfoot. You can't feel your nose and your face stings, but you've made it this far. A little cold weather isn't gonna stop you now.  
You are filled with determination.  
...And maybe a little frostbite.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Wow, so... it's been a while? Like, three months? And I am SUPER, SUPER sorry about that? But this is upwards of 20K, so you're welcome, I guess??  
> Part of the chapter got erased when I was writing it, and I couldn't retrieve it, which sucked, since it was an entire scene, but... the real trouble came when I tried to rewrite it and NOTHING. WORKED. I ended up writing the rest of the chapter first, then writing the cursed scene... and even then, it gave me an unbelievable amount of trouble! Hopefully it doesn't stick out too badly from the rest of the chapter... Let me know if you spotted it!  
> In other news... We have officially passed the 50K marker, which means, by NaNoWriMo standards, this fic is now novel-length! Congratulations on making it this far, dear readers! Also, buckle up, because we've got a LONG way to go... Part two of the Great Snowdin Escapades is already in the works! Thank you for your patience! ^^


	5. M O R E P U Z Z L E S

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> I RISE.

You encounter no other monsters along the path as you follow the tracks left by Papyrus' boots. It's easy to pinpoint the exact location of his change of pace, because the footprints are each suddenly feet apart and surrounded by a lot of powder that was kicked up in his haste. The area soon opens up, though there isn't much to see, and the tracks lead away to the south. You use the sign by the wayside as an excuse to stop and let Flowey rest.  
_Warning: dog marriage._  
_(Yeah, you read that right. What about it?)_  
Well, you've already encountered dog monsters, as well as a pair of matching sentry stations, so it's pretty easy to guess what this means. Hopefully, if they rely on smell as heavily as their sign suggests, then their eyesight won't be much better than Doggo's. It would suck to get chased into town by a bunch of monstrous bloodhounds with your scent burned into their memory.  
Even if they probably aren’t _actual_ bloodhounds.  
...God, you hope not.  
A patch of snow has been stamped down flat ahead of you, so you decide to check that out first, since there doesn’t seem to be any danger here. There are a few trees scattered about, but they don’t really interfere with your view of the cliff top you are (once again) standing on. How many cliffs can you fit under one mountain, anyway? You can see everything in front of you, as well as to your right... the east and south, respectively... and with so many stones and snow piles heaped up around you, you figure you’ve got a lot of options for quick hiding places should anyone happen by. There’s a path twisting out of sight on a separate plateau across the way, and it shouldn’t be too hard to spot them coming before they spot you. As long as you’re paying attention, no monsters should be able to sneak up on you from the south, and you don’t really expect anyone to come up from behind... except for Sans, and he could pop up literally anywhere. You wouldn’t be surprised if he were watching you at this very moment. To save his bet, his jacket, or simply to enjoy the show if you get beat down, you can’t say. All you know is that you’ve become acquainted with the feeling of being watched over the past day or so, and you are _definitely_ being watched.  
You get about halfway to the mystery patch before a particularly large snow pile rises up and blocks your path, shaking snow from its equally white fur. Flowey awakens with a start as your body jolts and going rigid. Sure, you’d seen the enormous white lump, but how were you supposed to know it was a monster?! It hadn’t looked any different from the others! And it had been at least _half_ this monster’s size!!  
The monster sniffs the air in your direction, pants, and wags its tail.  
Hmm. Well, it’s definitely a dog. There’s only _one_ though, where you expecting two. It barks, the sound loud and harsh to your ears, and although its tail is wagging and its expression is one of utter cluelessness, you can't help but be startled by it. There's just something about a dog's bark, when you know that it's directed at you, that incites an irrational, instinctive fear in a person. Like hearing police sirens behind you when you know you've done nothing wrong.  
_Except this is nothing like that because you know damn well this thing will kill you, guilty or not._  
You brace yourself for an attack, because this bipedal dog is wielding a large sword in its hand... paw?... and you don’t need your emerging soul to tell you that a dog monster wielding a blade is probably bad news. _Been there, done that._  
...Okay that sounded a little inappropriate even to you.  
A strong suspicion settles in your chest that by the time you’ve made your way to the end of the Underground, nothing will surprise you anymore.  
In the meantime, you guess this is your life now.  
Thinking back to your ‘fight’ with Doggo, he had swung at you with swords made from magic, despite wielding an actual blade in each paw. It seems logical, then, that this new monster’s attacks will _also_ be blade-themed... right?  
_Wrong._  
To your complete bewilderment, what appears in the air between you is none other than _another dog..._ a small terrier by the looks of it. (If you ignore its teeth and the _burning coals_ that pass for its eyes.) It lunges at you, yipping and snarling like a Chihuahua straight from the bowels of hell.  
_Oh god it went for the face._  
You drop to your knees at the last second, narrowing avoiding getting your face ripped off, only to feel a sharp pain in your lower back. That damned thing just nipped you from behind! The dog that summoned the creature, meanwhile, continues to pant and stare at you with vacant eyes. As if to prove the situation could, in fact, get weirder, the sword in its paw suddenly sprouts a face and begins to bark at you.  
You've been out here for a matter of hours and already _this_ happens. What a day.  
"What... the... Are you seeing this?!"  
"It's Lesser Dog. One of the guard's sentries posted around Snowdin. We're halfway there, so expect more of these."  
"LESSER Dog? There's a GREATER Dog? How many dogs are there?!"  
"Like at least five??"  
Suddenly, a sword-like shape is barreling towards you, and it's only force of habit that causes you to go still, allowing the blue attack to pass harmlessly through. Or so you thought, because pain lances through your chest as your soul flickers, and you're confused until you see the white sword in front of you, and you realize that this _son of a literal bitch literally stabbed you in the back._  
_Rude._  
Still... It IS a dog, and it's hard to be mad at something with such big, glossy eyes and soft white fur. So, after falling back to avoid the sword, and against your better judgement, you step forward to pet it.  
Lesser Dog's eyes seem to come to life as they lock onto your hand. Its ears perk up and it vibrates intensely.  
_You haven't even touched it yet!_  
You're too close to avoid the white dog attack when it appears, and it's a small mercy that it was too close to jump at your face again. Instead, it barrels right into your chest, sending a burning, stinging pain coursing through your soul, as well as putting an actual tear, small as it is, in Sans' jacket. It's only enough to catch a glimpse of the cotton inside, so it doesn't affect your warmth and it isn’t very noticeable, but you just _know_ he's going to be pissed.  
Somehow that scares you more than the sword-dog/dog-sword duo standing before you.  
Lesser Dog cocks its head to the side, as if it doesn't understand why you stopped. It occurs to you that maybe it doesn't even realize that it’s been attacking you. In fact, its sword seems more hyped for your destruction than its wielder... is it possible that it's the SWORD that's been attacking you?? It would certainly explain the nature of the attacks.  
You decide not to think about this any further... the philosophical ramifications are too great.  
Popping a candy in your mouth and trying not to grimace, you edge forward again, cautiously.  
"Hey, buddy..." You coo. Lesser Dog's ears twitch, and it begins to pant even louder. The sword growls. "No no no, hey, it's okay, it's okay... See, no rush, we're taking it niiiiice and slow, no need to panic, I'm not gonna hurt you..."  
You work your way up to the dog... dogs?... and let them sniff your hand. Lesser Dog does so without fear, and immediately licks it, panting happily. The sword is more hesitant. It allows you to pet Lesser Dog, but you receive a warning growl upon attempting to pet the sword itself, and the face shrinks away from your touch. Literally. It shrinks. A wary, tiny dog face stares out at you from within the sword, as though it were putting distance between you in the only way it knows how.  
You scratch Lesser Dog under the chin, and his leg thumps against the snow before you're startled by the shrill yapping of its guard sword, and you realize too late that you're only going to be able to dodge one sword as the blue one passes through you.  
Well, at least you've got the hang of blue attacks.  
You move back in slowly, although Lesser Dog seems impatient, if his vibrating is anything to go by. The eyes of the sword watch you with distrust as you resume your earlier pettings. It seems to relax after a few seconds, seeing how happy and calm its wielder is, and soon it, too, is panting and... sure enough... vibrating.  
_Huh._  
You smile, relieved, and turn back to Lesser Dog only to have to look up at it.  
_Fuck, is its NECK elongating?!_  
Sure enough, the more you pet the dog the longer his neck gets, and although his rusty armor is studded around the edges with little spikes, you press yourself almost fully against it as you reach up to pet and scratch as much of its white fur as you can. It seems to understand once its head moves out of your reach, or maybe it just wants to lick your face, because it kneels before you to bring itself level with you again. It then proceeds to thaw your frozen face with its tongue. Which is gross. _Unbelievably_ gross. But it's a dog, so you weren't really expecting any less.  
You continue to pet the dog, and soon its head is out of reach again, and you're laughing as you reach up on tiptoes to hug its neck. You even briefly consider petting the dog-sword, until you think about the ramifications of that particular course of action. You decide against it, although that doesn't stop you from scratching it once or twice. If it makes any difference in the sword's height, it isn't noticeable beside the dramatic neck length of Lesser Dog, whose barking is starting to sound a little thin and distant.  
"I think you might have a problem."  
"Why do you say that?"  
Flowey sighs.  
You do eventually decide, as the head twists around and begins to descend again, that this is probably enough. You bring the head down far enough so that you can nuzzle its face, before pulling away and patting its forehead.  
"Good dog."  
Lesser Dog seems pleased, but the sword whines. You lean over and kiss what you assume to be its forehead. It barks happily.  
The next thing you know one paw has taken your hand, and the sword suddenly _bends,_ so that the face is hovering over your palm. It opens its mouth and out drops a small sack of gold, like you might see in a video game, and a few coins in spare change. You know instinctively, as it vanishes, the amount of gold that you have received.  
_+60 gold._  
_Total: 60 gold._  
_Whoa._  
"A-are you... sure?"  
Lesser Dog cocks its head to the side, which you decide to take as a 'yes.' The sword barks again, and then the face vanishes. Lesser Dog walks past you, and you exchange looks with Flowey, who seems as unnerved as you are confused. You shrug. He turns away.  
"Tch."  
Now that it's safe to do so, you examine the small square of stamped down snow for any clue as to its purpose. It doesn't take you long to stumble across a switch buried beneath the snow, and soon you're headed back towards the footprints. This time, you follow them south to another large square, this time filled with packed together snowballs.  
_That's not suspicious at all._  
To your dismay, the spike slots blocking off the next area are empty. That doesn’t stop you from deciding to check out what's under the snowballs, even if its purpose seems to have been rendered obsolete. However, when you reach into the pile, not only do the snowballs scatter in every direction, but something pricks your hand straight through the sleeve of your (Sans’) jacket. Pain shoots up your arm.  
_"Ow!"_  
"You're supposed to start over there," Flowey nods towards the top left corner, which is to your right. "It's a map of the area. That's the clue."  
"I coulda guessed that..." You mutter, nursing your injured wrist. Now that the snow has cleared away, you can see the tiny barbs set up along the perimeter of the square. Estimating about where the path should begin, you kick the snow and watch the rippling effect it has as they all roll away like so many pool balls. Sure enough, no barbs. After that, the hardest part about clearing the map is keeping the snowballs from rolling back _in._ Which really doesn’t make sense to you, because everything you know about snow and physics tells you that snowballs do _not_ work that way. To be honest, they even _sound_ like pool balls to you. They _clack_ when they collide, ricocheting off of one another and redirecting many of themselves right back to your waiting feet. A quick experiment however, catching one of them up in your hands, reveals that they are slippery and cold to the touch. They are indeed, against all logic... densely packed snowballs. _Magic._  
You aren't even halfway done before you find the 'x' in the upper right corner of the map... right where you found the switch.  
You raise your fist to the heavens and shake it in mock anguish.  
"Curse my amazing puzzling skills!! I could have gone on a treasure hunt!"  
"Why do you care about the hunt if you've already found the treasure?" Flowey scoffs, smiling.  
"The hunt is the whole point of the exercise! It's what makes it fun!"  
Flowey has no time to reply, because two voices groaning in unison can be heard traipsing down the path towards you. They are accompanied by a nasally voice that seems to be talking, although you can't quite hear what it's saying over the groans. The trio come into view in a matter of seconds, so there's nowhere to go and nowhere to hide... You have no choice but to stand and fight, and judging by your soul's reaction when they spot you, the young monsters have no problem with that.  
Two of them you recognize, although they aren't the specific monsters you fought. One is a snowdrake, and the other is an icecap. The difference is in the coloring... this icecap has a bright yellow hat, like towering topaz crystals, smooth and flat and nearly glowing with the light reflecting off of the surrounding snow. You guess the configuration of each hat is unique, in much the same way that the snowflake on the snowdrake's head branches out differently than the one you saw previously. And speaking of drakes, the bird creature's feathers are tipped in a different hue, violet with a blue tinge to it. The accents of its frill are dark blue, and it has more distinct flight feathers and less downy fluff than before. Both of them are taller than the ones you met, so you guess that means they're older, though obviously still young. You aren't sure if you would call them young adults, exactly, but they're certainly pushing the limits of the term 'teenager.'  
The monster that's with them, however, is completely unfamiliar and quite possibly the _ugliest creature you've ever seen._  
Its body is shaped like a squashed, lopsided sombrero, and its head, where it is not dominated by an incredibly unconvincing black wig streaked with neon colors, is studded with spikes that have been obviously and clumsily dyed red, although the monster's skin is a dull shade of grey and brown. It's covered in pock marks, has uncomfortably large lips, slathered in at least five coats of black lipstick, and one arm is ridiculously disproportionate to its body, as well as to its other arm, which seems almost a tad too short. It also has no less than four legs, all of which end in black boots with raised heels. It seems to be complaining about said heels.  
"You're the one who wanted to wear the ugly things in this weather... It's Snowdin, what did you expect?" The icecap looks annoyed.  
"Don't be jealous just because you can't rock them like I can, do you even know how expensive it is to buy two of every pair of shoes you get, sometimes they don't have two pairs, or they only have one pair that's in my size, you don't understand, my life is so hard, you don't know me!"  
"Jerry, go away, we're in the middle of something here!"  
You're so distracted by their argument that it catches you off guard when the first two attack together, waves of familiar ice spikes rising up around you, although the gap between them, top to bottom, is wider than normal. You quickly see why, as the snowdrake's crescent moon attacks start flying left and right, sending you scrambling to dodge both monsters at once. It's the magical equivalent of playing an intense game of jump rope, while someone throws shurikens at you from the sidelines.  
You take a hit, but it's nothing like the pain of Lesser Dog's demonic terrier attack.  
"Wow, you guys suck at this."  
"Shut up, Jerry! Stop following us!"  
"Wow, you guys are terrible friends, after everything we've been through..."  
"That's not very _ice,_ is it?" You grin, catching the eye of the snowdrake, who rolls his eyes. He's smiling, though, and out of the corner of your eye you can see the icecap preening. "That yellow really brings out the color of your eyes, by the way," you tell the snow golem, while making eye contact.  
"Thanks," says Jerry. "You aren't half bad yourself, baby!"  
You stare at him.  
"I'm fine ditching him if you are."  
The other two monsters nod eagerly, and you interrupt Jerry's protests by pointing behind him and yelling,  
"Hey, what's that?"  
"Please, I'm not... Hey, where are you going? Guys? Guys?!"  
As if on cue, the other monsters break into a run, startling Jerry into looking behind him, which is when you make a break for it.  
"AFTER ALL I'VE DONE FOR YOOOOOOU!"  
You hear him mutter something like, _'I'm totally gonna blog about this, you'll see!’_ before you leave him in the powder and escape back to the save point, where the ice monsters are high-fiving one another in victory. You stumble up to them, and with one hand on your knee for support, you weakly raise the other for some high-fives of your own. They hesitantly oblige. Then the ice spikes are back, and as the crescents start to wind their way through the air, they begin to giggle.  
"Oh, COME ON!"  
So much for solidarity.  
"Oooh, that's _cold!"_ Cackles the snowdrake. You force yourself to laugh.  
"Where's YOUR hat, human?"  
"I don't have one, have pity!"  
They just laugh in return.  
"I'd offer mine, but you aren't worthy!"  
"Your ice looks dazzling is this lighting!"  
"Wha...?"  
"And your feathers are such a lovely shade of purple!!"  
"H-huh?"  
_"Please just stop trying to kill me we've been through this already for the love of god."_  
"We... have?" They look at each other in confusion.  
"Well... Not, you exactly... I met another pair earlier..." You gasp, winded.  
"What did they look like?" The icecap asks eagerly.  
"Uh, well... The icecap had a purple, spiky hat, and..."  
"Purple? You met _Purple?"_  
"You know him?"  
"Know him? That's my _little brother!_ You better not have hurt him, or I'll..."  
"No! No! I didn't hurt him! I'm way too weak and nice to do that! Although he did a number on me, I'll have you know..."  
"And the snowdrake?"  
"Looked kinda like you, but with blue feathers and purple up here..." You point to where it would be on your own head, if you had a frill like that.  
_"Snowy?"_  
"What was Pur doing with your dorky cousin?"  
"A better question is what your weird brother was doing with my Snow?"  
_"Weird brother?!_ I'll..."  
"Guys, guys! I didn't meet them together, I just meant that I'd met your, uh... species, before. And they had similar attacks, so I've been through this song and dance already."  
"You didn't hurt Pur? You promise?"  
"Pinky swear, you can ask him yourself!"  
"And Snowy?"  
"Perfectly fine. Likewise."  
"Hmm...."  
"......."  
They exchange looks, and stare at you in thought.  
"Alright,"  
"We'll let you go,"  
"On one condition."  
"Anything," you sigh in relief. Anything to get moving again, before more monsters start heading out for their mid-morning stroll.  
"If you see Purple again..."  
"If you see Snowy again..."  
"Could you keep an eye on them for us?"  
You blink.  
"Of... of course!"  
"Alright,"  
"Thanks."  
They nod, and the icecap hands something to the snowdrake that glints in the light. As they walk by, the snowdrake leans over, grabs your hand, and plunks some coins down on it. Then they're walking again, chattering and making small talk before they've even left the clearing. You take this opportunity to stop by the save point again, while you're here. Might as well. It's not like you're in a hurry or anything, not with that other monster out there, probably lurking about waiting for you to come back. Ugh. What a creep.  
It's not difficult to imagine why his 'friends' would want to ditch him.  
_+25 gold._  
_Total: 85 gold._  
Oh, jeez.  
"That was close," Flowey breathes against your neck.  
"Yeah," you sigh. This is turning into more of a fiasco than usual. Which is... kind of saying something, these days.  
You trek back the way you came with dread pooling in the pit of your stomach. Sure enough, you spot the disgusting Jerry before it even knows you're there. It's bent over a screen, texting. You guess his blogging threat was legit, after all. Any chance at anonymity you might have had just went out the window...  
"Oh, hey, it's you. I knew you'd come back for me, baby~ Great idea, ditching the losers so we can be alone! Now, where were we..."  
He reaches out noodly arms in your direction, sidling towards you with studded bracelets dangling and sliding about in completely unnatural ways.  
_Nope._  
"Hey, where are you going?!"  
_Nope nope nope nope nope._  
"COME BACK!"  
_Hell to the no to the no fuckin' way._  
You leap right over the little wooden bridge between cliffs, and sprint down a steep southbound path before skidding to a halt, heart pounding. _There they are._  
Two dogs, wearing hooded robes and bearing war axes, come running up the path towards you. Beyond them lies an unattended puzzle, which would worry you if you weren’t so terrified. They bound right up to you, but curiously enough stop _beside_ you, sniffing around as if searching for something. You suppose the hoods cover their eyes, but maybe it's also that they can't see, in general? They might be relatives of Doggo, or they might just have similar disabilities, it's not impossible.  
You find it kind of heartening that even here, in this crazy scary, deranged underworld, monsters still have the decency not to judge and refuse jobs to other monsters who are disabled. You might have to ask Flowey about that sometime, if you survive this.  
"What's that smell?"  
"Where's that weird smell?"  
"If you're a smell.."  
"Identify yoursmellf!"  
_"Pffft."_  
"Aha!!! Found you!"  
Flowey glares at you. You shrug.  
"Sorry! Couldn't help it." You mouth. He rolls his eyes.  
"Hmm... Here's that weird smell... It's... It's kind of familiar, actually..."  
"Sans?"  
You stand rigid. What do you even do here? If you talk, they'll know you aren't Sans, and they'll probably assume the worst, like every other monster who's ‘recognized’ you. But if you don't... won't that come off as suspicious?  
"Wait a second..."  
_Shit._  
"You're not Sans!"  
"Who are you? Why do you smell like Sans?! Identify yoursm- yourself!"  
One of them breathes deeply through his nose, locating the arm of the jacket in the process. You tense.  
"Such a weird, unusual smell..."  
"I've never smelled anything like it..."  
"It kind of makes me... want to eliminate."  
"Eliminate _you!"_  
Huge white axe shapes appear overhead, and as they come down, you realize what you have to do and dart underneath one of them to find safety at the center. However, the axes lift back up and move again, and this time one of them manages to graze you as it passes by overhead. You hiss in pain. _Dang, that's sharp._  
In the midst of their attack, the hoods of their robes ride up a bit, and you catch just a glimpse of the faces underneath. One of them has a mustache, and the other looks more ladylike, if only for her lack of one. Both have subtle scars beneath their white fur, visible only where the scar tissue does not permit the fur to grow. You also notice that their axes are crossed, one over the other, in a manner that can't be very productive in battle. They’re tangled together like they're trying to protect each other, although you suppose if their magic has offensive capabilities then it isn't really necessary for them to wield their weapons properly, is it?  
Strangely enough, the axes seem to have faces on them... One has long, feminine eyelashes, and the other, a mustache. Both are scarred and seem to be snarling. Well, you suppose it makes them easy to tell apart!  
Okay... It’s two against one here, so you’ll need to think fast!  
Well... you suppose it’s two against two, but they don’t seem to have realized yet that Flowey is there, so you won’t count him for now.  
You think back to their stations... The sign talked about smell identification, didn't it? Something about... puppies, being nonsuspicious? And a blue rating? _Got it!_  
You don't have a chance to do anything for the moment, because those awful white dog attacks have appeared, one on either side of you, but instead of running at you, they bark. Little broken hearts issue from their mouths, spinning in a wheel. Some of them are blue. The entire thing is made infinitely creepier and infinitely less cute with the knowledge that that shape represents souls down here, and not hearts. Or at the very least, it represents both. Somehow that's worse.  
"Take my wife... 's fleas!"  
"Don't actually. I bite."  
You resist the urge to snicker, and though you take a few hits from the turning hearts, you're prepared when the next attack comes soon after. You dive to the ground as the axes appear again. This time, you simply roll underneath them, knowing that you're getting absolutely filthy and not caring one bit.  
The attack ends, and you pop back up on your feet, throwing your arms out wide in an attempt to waft the smell in their direction. They are already sniffing at the air again.  
"Hang on..."  
"That smell..."  
"Smell's like a..."  
"Are you actually a lost little puppy?!"  
"No... Too big to be a puppy..."  
"Are you another dog?!"  
You feel yourself begin to relax, and smile. You nod, and hesitantly, once again tempting fate, reach out to touch them.  
"What are you- Oh. _Oh, wow._ Pet by another dog?"  
"What?! You're petting my husband?! Well... Don't leave me out!"  
You grin, and move to scratch both of them under the chin. They pant, and their tails wag happily.  
"A dog that pets dogs... It's incredible! It's... It's...!"  
"Kinky?"  
_Uhhhhhhh..._  
You aren't sure you like where this is going.  
"Absolutely," the wife purrs. "Oh!" She gasps. "I just thought of something even _more_ amazing! Dogs _walking_ other dogs! The sky's the limit!"  
"Dogaressa, honey, you're a genius!"  
"Oh, Dogamy, you're such a charmer~"  
"What do you say we... go test out this bold new theory?"  
"Yes, let's..." They nuzzle one another seductively, and you can feel Flowey shifting uncomfortably. You clear your throat. "Oh! I'm sorry! Did you want to come, too?"  
You shake your head vigorously, and make a sweeping gesture towards the puzzle, and by extension, Snowdin. Thankfully, they seem to understand.  
"Ah, of course. Just taking yourself out for a walk, eh? Well... We'll let you get right to it, then! You positively _bad dog,_ you! Here, for the trouble... _and for the ideas."_ They giggle, and hurry off to do things you'd rather not think about... As soon as they're gone, you exhale in relief.  
_+50 gold._  
_Total: 135 gold._  
You briefly consider quitting your day job.  
"That was close."  
"Too close," he agrees. "Let's just get this over with. Even the inn is starting to sound pretty nice right about now, and believe me, that is something that is not often said about that inn."  
"That bad, huh?"  
"Absolutely. It's the worst."  
"Well, that sucks, because I think that's where we're staying tonight."  
"Figures..."  
"Hey, you could've slept at Toriel's but noooo..."  
"Well how was I supposed to know she'd had an inexplicable change of heart?!"  
"Inexplicable, huh?" You grin.  
"Yeah, you're a mystery, all right... Just like your love of signs."  
_"Signs!"_  
"Yep. Totally unpredictable, you are."  
You're both smiling as you step up to the sign to read what it has to say about the puzzle before you.  
_Turn every X into an O._  
_Then press the switch._  
_Are you that stupid, or were you just reading this out of curiosity?_  
Underneath, in Papyrus' handwriting, is a short addition:  
_P.s: Solve it incorrectly, and you will be zapped!_  
"Nice people." You step over to the arrangement of snow clumps, and possibly rocks, that make up the puzzle. It’s arranged into a gigantic “X” pattern, with the top left leg cut short, allowing access above it. You figure that means you have to go around there. The middle is also cut out, leaving enough space to walk through, although the row of spikes beyond it make it impossible to skip the puzzle entirely. (Well... not impossible, per see... You could cheat. It’s just that you don’t want to.) There are five X’s, four nestled in the corners of the larger “X,” and a second one located directly above the topmost “X.” As you stare at, with a feeling that the whole ensemble is vaguely familiar somehow, it finally occurs to you _why._  
“It’s a skull and crossbones!” You cheer, clapping in your excitement. You have no idea if Papyrus is watching you right now, but you don’t care. You’re just happy to be faced with such a clever challenge!  
The puzzle itself, unfortunately, proves to be rather easy... You work it out in your head before even starting, and sure enough, starting from the top left seems to do the trick... You walk straight down over the X’s, and they turn to O’s. You walk all the way down, then step back up, to the blank snow in the middle. It’s here that you stop, catching yourself just in time... If you were to walk west, then east, you would come out on the side of the spikes, and that would force you to cross over the O’s again, which wouldn’t do. You could probably just jump over them, but that wouldn’t be fair to the puzzle-maker... you know perfectly well that he must have poured a lot of time and energy into making his puzzles, and from the sound of it, you’re the first person who’s ever actually _had_ to solve them. This is an exciting time for him, and you wouldn’t dream of ruining it!  
You go east, then west, and step onto the switch with both feet. The spikes recede.  
“Woohoo!”  
“Don’t celebrate too early,” Flowey warns, shrinking against your neck. You follow his gaze to see Papyrus standing up ahead. You know for a fact he wasn’t there earlier, and there’s a trail of footprints in the snow leading from behind a tree in the distance to where he is now, so it isn’t hard to guess what happened. You _knew_ he was watching!  
His breathing is a little harsh as you approach, and his face is a little... orange? Did he run all the way over here when you weren’t looking? That’s _adorable!_ He coughs “quietly” to himself as you reach him.  
“I see you managed to resist my trap! Most impressive. Few monsters could contain themselves when faced with such a tantalizing aroma! Your will must truly be strong to have escaped!”  
You smile.  
“Thanks! Your puzzle was pretty great, too. I thought the Jolly Roger was a nice touch!”  
The orange of his cheekbones flares brighter. It’s official... you have succeeded in making Papyrus blush.  
It is the greatest achievement of your life.  
“Ah... So you... noticed the pattern? That’s... incredible! Few can solve my puzzles so quickly! Even fewer can recognize the mechanisms behind them! It is good to meet someone who can _appreciate_ my genius! Even if that person is a complete _dork._ Nyeheheh!”  
_Oh no he knows everything about me now._  
“Speaking of dorks... my brother has started a sock collection recently. Socks! Can you imagine?! How saddening... Sometimes I wonder what he would do without such a tough, cool guy looking out for him??? Nyeheheheheheh!” Suddenly, his large, gloved hand is at your back, and he’s propelling you forward with him as he walks, rather swiftly, thanks to his long legs, towards the puzzle up ahead. Thankfully, he seems more in control of himself than Sans was, and this does not, for once, result in you landing on your back or stomach in the snow. Instead, although you’re forced to pick up the pace, he steers you safely in front of the puzzle while leaning down a bit to speak quietly in your ear.  
He _does_ have an indoor voice, then!  
“So... human... there’s something you should know about this next puzzle... Hmmm... How do I say this...” He stops, but doesn’t release you. You stare out over the puzzle in shock. It looks... kind of like a skull...? “You were taking too long, so... I decided to improve this puzzle... by arranging it to look even more like my face! Unfortunately, the snow seems to have frozen to the ground. Which means the solution has now changed. And as usual, my lazy brother is nowhere to be found in this crisis! I suppose what I am saying is...” He strikes _the pose._ “Fear not, human! I, the awful Papyrus, will solve this conundrum! I would not ask you solve a puzzle that even _I_ could not solve, of course! Partially because there _isn’t_ one, and partially because I have standards. NONETHELESS! Feel free to try and solve it while I am thinking, but be careful not to mess up too many times! Take too many shocks, and you may not survive to face the next one!” He chuckles at his own joke, and begins rubbing his “chin” while staring out at the puzzle. You join him.  
Well, it doesn’t look _too_ bad... it looks solvable, at least! You try walking along the “jaw” of the skull, before making your way upwards... You quickly realize that this is incorrect, when you are forced to pass the same tile twice, and it turns into a triangle. Papyrus snickers at you from the sidelines, and you huff, walking over to the switch and stepping on it without another thought. It isn’t until pain courses through you and Flowey _yelps_ that you remember he was there.  
“Oops... _Sorry!”_  
_“You put me down. You put me down, **right. now.** ”_  
“Right...” You frown, worried about the effect the cold must be having on his roots... But it’ll only be for a few minutes, right?  
Once Flowey has disappeared into the snow once more, you return to the puzzle. You get halfway through another configuration, before realizing that this one is wrong, too... But as you stare at the offending _part_ of the puzzle, the part that you can already tell will force you to cross your own footsteps getting past it... a pattern starts to jump out at you. Your brain kicks into second gear. Mentally, you draw a line through the area. No. Try again. Another line. Still no. And another, and another, until...  
_Bingo._  
You grit your teeth at the jolt as you reset the puzzle. It doesn’t seem to deal a terrible amount of damage, thankfully, but having passed that save point a while back you aren’t expecting another one for a while. Snowdin can’t be far off now, and there’ll probably be more monsters like Flowey said. You’ll want to conserve your strength.  
You nearly misstep as you trace the pattern you’d imagined, approaching the puzzle from the southeast. But you catch yourself, and sure enough, all of the Xs are soon Os. The _click_ of the spikes receding is music to your ears, and you turn to beam at Papyrus. He seems to be watching you with renewed interest.  
“You... solved it... And you did it without my help... I must admit to being impressed! Perhaps you are the elite puzzle-lover that you say you are. Perhaps you possess a natural talent for puzzles, like myself! Well... If that’s the case, then you are going to _love_ the next puzzle!! In fact, in light of this discovery, I shall refrain from spoiling it for you. I will see you up ahead, human (Name)!” And off he goes, kicking up powder as he bounds off to prepare something awful, no doubt, to threaten you with. Like a young, gleeful supervillain. You guess that makes you the hero? You’re down with that.  
_Huh._ He actually called you by your name back there, didn’t he? It seems he _almost_ respects you. You consider this a victory!  
You’ve gotten used to the brothers popping up every time you look away, so you aren’t terribly surprised to find Sans leaning against a tree as you start walking, once again following in Papyrus’ footsteps. At this rate, he’s going to lead you right to the edge of town! But then, you guess there’s nothing wrong with that. As long as it doesn’t cause too much of a commotion... you REALLY don’t need the attention right now.  
Hopefully the puzzle isn’t _too_ extravagant... You’re beginning to worry that Papyrus may end up having _too_ much faith in your abilities...  
“Congrats on solving it so quickly. You didn’t even need my help. Which is great, because I wouldn’t have helped you anyway.”  
“Glad I can count on your support in these trying times.”  
“Don’t mention it.”  
“How much farther is the town?”  
He shrugs.  
“Paps has two more puzzles to throw at you, then he’ll probably resort to attacking. If that happens, I suggest you run. Believe me, Paps may _look_ like a dork... heck, he is one... but if you fight him, he will wipe you and your crazy, suicidal ass off the face of the _Earth._ So do us both a favor, and try not to get killed, alright?”  
“Well there go my plans for the evening.”  
“I’m _serious._ Paps has an ATK that’ll K.O your scrawny ass in a single blow.  
That catches your attention.  
“What’s A.T.K stand for?”  
His mouth curls into an amused smirk, and his eyes flicker to the empty space on your shoulder that Flowey normally occupies.  
“What, your _little shop of horrors_ didn’t explain it to ya?”  
“You saw that movie?” You can’t hide the genuine, pleasant surprise in your voice. He stares at you, then turns his gaze to the snow a few feet to his side. He does manage to fend off most of the color rising to his cheekbones, though.  
The keyword being 'most.'  
“Kid... Sweetheart, you really need to get your priorities in order. But, uh...” You think he’s going to change the subject, but to your surprise... “Paps likes that cheesy old horror stuff. We found a box of tapes at the dump once. Managed to salvage a few.”  
“That’s great! Do you like them?”  
He straightens up again, returning your eye contact with a small grin so calm and _normal_ that he almost looks like a completely different guy. Maybe it’s your imagination, but for an instant, the glowing iris in his left socket seems to dim... or maybe it’s just the soft white light of his right eye that makes it appear dull in comparison? Whatever it is, it’s gone as quickly as it appears. His easy smile cracks into another smirk, while the balance (or imbalance, as it were) of his pupils is restored.  
“I like it when the humans die.”  
“...Ah.”  
“It’s _hilarious.”_  
“It can be, yeah. I can see that.”  
“And informative.”  
“O-oh...”  
His smirk widens, and he snorts.  
“What’s with that face, Sweetheart? Forget who you were talking to for a minute?”  
“Nah, just forgot how homicidally insane you are.”  
He laughs.  
“Really? Sounds _dangerous._ Forgetting something like that could getcha killed. Maybe you need a **r e m i n d e r.** ”  
His sockets are empty. You shiver, but stand your ground.  
“Nah, I’m good!” Your voice pitches embarrassingly high. “S-so, um... a-about those movies, huh?” Your voice catches.  
_“Snrk.”_  
You huff, puffing your cheeks a little as you wait for him to stop snickering.  
Apparently, that does _not_ help.  
_“So about those movies.”_ You say in a loud, strained voice. He does his best to quiet down, although it’s clear that your expression is making it hard to do so. His grin trembles, the corners of his mouth twitching upwards. “Maybe we could watch one of them, sometime! You know, t-together.”  
You stare at one other in shock.  
_Oh no._  
You don’t know why you faltered on the last word... it wasn’t like you meant it like _that._ But it had occurred to you, just as the words began to leave your mouth, that he might interpret them that way, and you had panicked, and... If he hadn’t thought that way before, he certainly did now. His face burns almost as red as yours feels. _Goddammit, brain._  
“I-I meant... you know, as... uh... f-frien-“  
_“I got it.”_ He’s not looking at you.  
“R-right...” _Better just... stop talking._ You have a feeling you’re only making matters worse.  
You shuffle your feet, stomping the snow to warm your legs. Sans’ jacket is big, and it reaches below your waist, but your thighs sting and everything below that has long since gone into hibernation. You half-bend to rub vigorously over your jeans, hoping to work some of the feeling back with pure friction.  
“...Paps’ probably done checking his puzzle by now. You should go on ahead. You’ve kept him waiting enough today.”  
“O-oh...” You look down the path at the grey tile visible beyond a short wooden bridge. You can see Papyrus “checking” something that looks to be a piece of heavy machinery. Maybe it controls the puzzle? Looks like another electronic one, then. Hopefully the voltages are low. You grit your teeth. Getting electrocuted _hurts._  
“So am I gonna have to... _ah.”_ A familiar flicker. He’s gone. Well, at least another awkward encounter is over.  
A small _poff_ and a flash of yellow beside you catches your attention, and you smile shakily down at Flowey. He’s shivering, but he smiles back, warily.  
“Papyrus is waiting,” he says.  
“I know.” You wait for him to climb up into the jacket with you, but he doesn’t.  
“Please be careful,” he says.  
Then he, too, is gone.  
You plod alongside the boot prints leading up to the bridge.  
_“Aha!_ So you have arrived, human!” Papyrus plants both hands on his hips, using his full height to his advantage as he attempts to appear both regal and frightening. It works. “I suppose congratulations are in order for your _immense_ patience in _humoring_ my brother’s pathetic attempts to stall you.”  
Sans gives him an incredulous and offended look.  
“Really, I must thank you for playing along. I know better than anyone how _torturous_ it is to make conversation with someone so _lazy_ and _irritating.”_  
_“Hey!”_  
“Nonetheless!! I want you to know that it has all been worth it! For this... is the ultimate in puzzling technology! It was created by the mad Dr. Alphys! You see these tiles? Once I throw this switch... they will begin to change color!! Each color has a different function! HOWEVER! This puzzle is very complex, and I will only explain it _once!_ Are you ready, human?”  
You nod. This one actually sounds pretty interesting!  
“VERY WELL!” He clears his “throat” into a black-gloved fist. “Red tiles are impassable. You cannot walk on them, so don’t even try! Yellow tiles are electric! They will electrocute you! Green tiles are alarm tiles. If you step on them... you will forced to do battle with a monster!! Orange tiles are orange-scented. They will make you smell delicious. Blue tiles are water tiles. Swim through if you dare, but... if you smell like oranges, the piranhas will take a bite out of you!! Also, if a blue tile is next to a yellow tile, it will be electrified! So watch out! Purple tiles are slippery. Stepping on one will send you sliding onto the next tile! However, the slippery soap... smells like lemons! Which piranhas do not like... but electric eels do!! Nyeheheh! Pink tiles will not harm you. They are rose-scented. They will make you smell dainty... which will make you a perfect snack for the sharks!! Silver tiles will cut you, so beware! They will make you blood-scented, _and you know what that means._ Grey tiles... do nothing. You can step on them all you like. Black tiles, however!! Will kill you!! So unless you want to fall to your untimely death!! I do not recommend stepping on them!! Light blue tiles are tricky... once you step on them, they will begin to flicker! Move forward when the tile is orange, but be careful! If the tile is blue, you must not move at all! Bronze tiles are fire tiles! Move through them if you like... but prepare to feel the _burn!_ Nyeh heh! On the bright side, both bronze tiles and yellow tiles will leave you smoke-scented... which is a very unappealing smell. It will mask all other smells that you may have acquired! Light green tiles are fog tiles... they will obscure your view. Also, the mist itself... is lime-scented!! Which sharks and other sea creatures do not like!! ...Well, except for seahorses... but they aren’t dangerous. They are only there to get eaten by the things that are dangerous... ANYWAYS! Gold tiles are mirror tiles! They will become whatever tile you touched last! And finally... magenta tiles! These tiles will set off a timed burst after you step on them, so try not to linger! Also... they will make you smell like raspberries! Which attracts anglerfish!! ...And also bees sometimes, but Snowdin is too cold for bees. So you don’t need to worry about that right now. Well?” He gives you a smirk that is equal parts arrogant and eager. “Did you get all that, human?”  
...  
.............  
...  
What.  
“Ah... A-actually, could you-”  
“EXCELLENT!! Oh, and one more thing... This puzzle... is completely random!!!! Once I pull this lever, it will make a puzzle... that has never been seen before!!! Not even I will know the solution! And of course, this time, I am under no obligation to help you once I _do_ figure it out! Nyehehehehe! Are you ready, (Name)?”  
_Oooooh boy._  
_Like HELL I am!_  
_But..._  
_Then again..._  
_Did he just use my actual name...?_  
You are filled with **DETERMINATION.**  
Papyrus pulls the lever, and the puzzle comes to life in a whirl of colors and sounds.  
The resulting puzzle is a kaleidoscopic rainbow of chaos, crackling and zapping and generating a distant electric _thrumming_ that fills the once quiet clearing.  
When you find your voice, it is only to squeak out a question.  
“So... I’m guessing I have to take off the jacket now...?”  
“I mean, I _personally_ prefer my jackets to _not_ contain live piranhas...” –Sans shrugs- “But, maybe you’re into that? ...That’s hardcore, I can respect that.”  
You stare hard at the puzzle.  
There are only two black tiles that you can see, but they’re both near the beginning and it’s hard to see past the walls of fire created by the bronze tiles... especially where two of them meet. There’s also several green tiles... you’ll want to avoid those... and a few orange. Those are... orange-scented? And pink was unpassable... or, wait, no... that was red... Shit, what do pink tiles do? Something about being rose-scented? _Gah._  
Okay. So you can’t swim if you’re scented... unless you’re... smoke-scented? Or smell like raspberries? No, lemons? Lime? _Ergh._ You’ll just try to avoid swimming altogether... Hell, you’re liable to freeze to death just solving the puzzle _dry..._ if you aren’t _dead in the water_ to begin with, clambering out into this weather will certainly be the _death of you._  
“Well, kid... Swe- uh, _human?”_  
You give him your best _“B- for effort”_ look and fiddle with the zipper of the jacket.  
“In a minute, okay? It’s cold... and I need to strategize.”  
“YES, SANS! Shut up and let the EXPERTS do their jobs!!”  
Sans gives him that _look_ again, then gives you small glare as if to say _this is your fault._ You huff, although the effect is ruined by you inhaling jacket fluff on the intake, resulting in more of a strangled _cough._ He seems to find that funny, _the jerk._  
Oh, GOODNESS this is awful. _Oh golly._  
_Yuck._  
You don’t want to know where this jacket has been.  
Or how long it was there.  
You focus on the puzzle to keep from gagging, forcefully resisting the tickle in your throat that demands you cough ‘til you can cough no more. The effort brings tears to your eyes, but gradually it becomes bearable, and you begin to trace a map through the puzzle. There are some grey tiles towards the end, you figure those are your best bet. Getting to them, though, is going to be tricky... You think that’s a water tile there, behind the first of the fire tiles... whoops, you mean blue and bronze... The edges of the tiles glow in their respective colors, marking them clearly despite their lack of surface area.  
...It takes a VERY harsh glare from Papyrus to curb his brother’s laughter, and even then, he continues to snicker quietly into his hand.  
ANYWAYS.  
There’s only one way into the puzzle, really... the purple tile to the south will slide you right onto a black tile, and every other tile is blocked by other dangerous, impassible, or less than ideal tiles. The only viable option you can see is through the tile furthest north... also purple... which will slide you onto an orange tile. From there, you’ll have to make your way through a light blue tile... shoot, what do those do again? ...and, unless you feel a sudden, MIGHTY NEED to take a stroll through the fires of Hell... you’ll need to bypass the fire tiles... BRONZE tiles... onto a magenta tile. Yikes. Those are the raspberry ones, right? The ones that explode? _Yeesh. Points for creativity, though._  
You can’t see much beyond that. The tile beyond it is lime-colored... which means that it’s emitting a dense fog, tinted faintly green by the border of light beneath it. You guess you’ll have to take your chances, though, because from there the only place to go is through water. Craning your neck and fighting to keep your eyes from swimming with all the stimulus, you think you can spot a bright white just beyond it... is that silver? _...Crud, what does silver do?_  
You COULD continue straight, as that would lead to a grey tile, which should be safe. Unfortunately, this would require you to swim, and you aren’t really looking forward to tha-  
“JUST. GET ON WITH IT ALREADY!!!”  
You flinch, and suddenly you’re tearing off the jacket and jumping up to your chosen starting point.  
This is about the time when the laws of physics, as well as Murphy’s law, decide to kick in.  
You move too quickly, and your foot catches on a particularly slick patch of snow and ice. Rather predictably, you fall... but not before sliding _right onto the puzzle._  
_Forget Slip ‘n Slides... purple tiles are the way to go!_  
You’re on your back in an aromatic haze of freshly peeled oranges before you can truly appreciate this discovery.  
You choose to ignore Sans’...  
_Aw, fuck it._  
You hold up two fingers. Sans laughs harder.  
“You’re a _DICK,_ Sans!”  
It’s like the Bomb course all over again.  
“HUMAN! WATCH YOUR LANGUAGE!!”  
“Sorry, Papy,” you mumble.  
“...What was that.”  
“...rus?”  
_“Hm.”_  
At least he seems pacified.  
You climb shakily to your feet, releasing a breath in a hiss as you rub at your bruised and scraped elbows. Without the extra padding of the jacket your arms are defenseless, and though the injuries are minor the cold makes them _agonizing._  
You stare at the sky blue tile in front of you, trying to remember its function. Was this the one that flickered...?  
Might as well. You step onto it.  
Sure enough, after a moment it changes color, and you start to step forward... only to have it change back mid-step.  
Magic cuts through your soul, making you jump and yelp. It lasts for only an instant, before the tile is orange again, and the pain when you hesitate is enough to have you on the magenta tile before you can reconsider.  
From here, everything erupts into _chaos._  
A high beeping sounds out from beneath your feet, and _you’ve played enough video games to know what that means._ The words ‘timed burst’ playing on repeat in your mind, you leap onto the next tile in your haste to get away... only to plunge into a screen of green fog. _Shoot!_ What came after this? Was it... was it grey? You seem to recall there being a grey tile up ahead... but then there was a water tile past it, so that wouldn’t be ideal. ...Or was it silver? Maybe there was a silver tile, and _then_ a grey one? Either way, you would prefer not to have to swim...  
That leaves only one path, and the chill of the mist trying to form a thin sheet of ice on your skin makes the decision for you. You lunge to your right.  
_Flicker._  
The tile is light blue, and it isn’t without pain that you make it to the grey tile on the other side. You suppose the damage must be minimal for fairness, since you don’t see how you could possible change momentum in time with the flickering. Then again, maybe it’s timed? Monsters who have seen the device at work before might be able to predict the actions of the puzzle’s machinery... but you’ll wonder about that later! For now, you need to deal with your current momentum, which has carried you _right_ past the grey tile, and...  
_Splash._  
_Oh Hell this is Hell I am in HELL._  
The water is actually warmer than the air above it, possibly due to the bronze tile adjacent to it. It still invades your clothing though, robbing you of what little body heat you may have had left. Not to mention the shock of it... One moment you’re dry, if freezing... the next, you’re fully submerged. By the time you reemerge, gasping, the water has sunk its way into your very bones. You don’t think you’ll ever be warm again. All you can think about is getting free, and _soon._ You’ve got a hand on the next tile... a pink tile... when you feel it. Something brushes lightly past your shin.  
_Pink tiles will make you smell dainty... which attracts..._  
_OH GODS NO._  
You freeze, confused and terrified as you look down at the neon pink beneath your arm and hands. You... aren’t ON the pink tile yet. Whatever parts of you that have now become rose-scented... aren’t even in the water right. So, what...?  
Your answer comes in a flurry of movement, and you shove yourself off of the wall of the pink tile so fast that you crash back into the grey... _hard._ Your mad scramble to get away is brought to a halt by a tiny figure flitting past you, just beneath the surface.  
_...Was that a..._  
Against your better judgement... and probably because your arms are screaming to be put back into the _marginally less cold_ water, you turn around.  
You gasp.  
You are surrounded by a swarm of _delightfully tiny seahorses._  
They are the cutest things, you have _ever_ seen.  
They bump and nuzzle you as they search for the source of the delicious lime smell, and you wish you were in a position to touch one of them, maybe pet them a little. Alas, you are drenched and quite possibly freezing to death. Now is not the time for _squees._  
You haul yourself back onto the grey tile... Papyrus never said that was against the rules, now, did he? ...and immediately regret it. You turn towards him. You barely register the familiar gasping laughter. The next tile is another magenta, but you’re close... _so close!_  
You wouldn’t have lingered even if it was safe.  
Every cell of your body howls in protest as you slip and slide your way onto the pink tile just ahead, wrenching yourself to the side just in time to avoid another ice bath, gritting your teeth as you slide onto a light blue tile. The gold tile beyond immediately mimics it.  
You don’t know how you got past that, exactly, but judging by the rising heat of your flesh and the aching of your battered soul, you’d say you’re cutting it pretty close. You’re gonna need another slice of Toriel’s pie after this. Maybe two! Assuming hypothermia doesn’t finish you first.  
The last tile is grey... a small mercy... and you stumble to your knees at the feet of a writhing mass of black and red, wheezing helplessly. _Oh, wait... that’s just Sans._  
You can vaguely hear Papyrus barking at him to stop, something about it being _unprofessional,_ and a sharp remark about a jacket. What was that about your jacket...?  
Sans sits up, still fighting to breath, and wipes a tear from his eye before gesturing to something past you, magic flaring.  
Strangely enough, your body no longer feels cold. You barely feel the weight of heavy fabric settling on your shoulders as every part of you suddenly feels as though you’ve been set aflame. You would start tearing at your clothes to release the heat, but arms suddenly grasp you, strong and unyielding, and you are lifted to your feet. The arms release you. Your body crumples, and it’s only the arms’ quick reflexes that save you from the gritty white blanket below. You can hear him speaking to you, and you understand the words, but cannot for the life of you piece them together into a meaningful context. The only words you truly understand are spoken in another voice, and they are _“Oh, shit.”_ You _do_ put up a fight... feeble though it may be... when Papyrus tears away your scarf. You try to garble out that it was a gift, but it’s already vanished.  
Red fills you vision, and you flinch.  
_Hot. Searing. Searing HOT!!!_  
You whine and reach up to claw at your neck, but hands grasp yours and pull them away.  
“Oh, stop that! I’m trying to _help_ you! Think of it as a reward. SANS, the human is being very difficult!!”  
“Hey, cut ‘em some slack! They’re having a very _bath time_ right now.”  
“AUGHH!”  
You hear yourself giggle, more at Papyrus’ reaction than at whatever joke or pun Sans just made. Man, you are _really_ out of it.  
“I mean, hypothermia’s no joke for humans... I hear it’s pretty hard to shake off, once they’re, _en-drenched_ in it.”  
His voice is loud enough that you get the idea he’s talking to you, or at least _for_ you, and for some reason this elicits another giggle and a light shiver. You know that was a pun, but you’re honestly too far gone to concentrate long enough to make the connection. Whatever it was, it must’ve been bad, because Papyrus makes a noise of disgust, and suddenly you’re disoriented and lying in the snow.  
“Sans, I swear to GOD...”  
“Aw, c’mon! I thought that one was pretty _sleet_ myself!”  
“STOP. RUINING THIS FOR ME!!!”  
“Wow. That’s just _cold.”_  
You hear screeching, and watch silently as boots stomp hard enough to flick snow into your lap.  
“That’s okay, bro. I’ll just _powder_ on through...”  
“Ugh... HUMAN!” Black and white obscures your vision as Papyrus leans over you, gripping your chin painfully in his gloved claws, forcing you to meet his gaze. Wait, when did you sit up again...? “You are not allowed to die here, **understand?** There are two puzzles left, and they are both the finest that the Underground has to offer... because they were built by ME!! When you have completed them successfully, then you may feel free to die... but not before!! You have done surprisingly well thus far, so do not disappoint me!” He releases you. The movement makes you a little dizzy. Your stomach protests, reminding you that you have eaten nothing but pie and candy in the last 24 hours and it would all like to see the light of day again if it’s all the same to you.  
...When did your scarf start smelling like burnt tomato sauce and laundry detergent? You thought it smelled like soot and pumpkin spice?  
_“Hail_ be back. He _snows_ those were some _slick_ lines, if I do say _snow_ myself.”  
...You guess both scents are pleasant, in their own ways. You can’t really judge. After yesterday, anything’s better than smelling like _yoursmellf._  
You chuckle weakly at your own joke.  
“Heh. A’ight, Sweetcheeks. Let’s getcha all fixed up...” You have no idea what he means by that, but his hands never reach you.  
“ **Don’t TOUCH them.** ” Now there’s a familiar voice you haven’t heard in a while!  
“Floweyyy...” You reach out to him, smiling. He grimaces as he looks at you, but soon enough you feel vines brushing up against your skin. They don’t shrink away like you expected, and you’re surprised to feel warmth emanating from them. Do plants normally produce body heat?  
_Maaaaagic._  
You would make jazz hands if you could feel your fingers.  
As it is, you shakily move to your knees and beginning lifting yourself up by them. It takes a few tries, but with a little propping up from the vines, you soon find yourself standing. You’re still fighting back the confusion in your mind and everything, from your body to your soul, seems to cry out with pain... but you’re alive. Flowey is doing his best to stave off the worst of the danger, a few vines slipping under your shirt to coil around your stomach. They shift a little higher, almost shyly. You would be amused if you weren’t so miserable, but that’s probably a good sign.  
“Welp. You seem to have this one covered. I’ll leave you to it then.” Sans shifts back, both hands in his pockets. “I’ll just go wait with Paps this time. You should probably heal up, if you can.” He stares at you in thought. You’re about to speak when he cuts you off. “Ability to Kill.”  
“What?”  
“ATK. It stands for Ability. To. Kill.”  
Saying your blood just ran cold would be a tad redundant.  
_Good to see that ice bath hasn’t quenched the **burning sass** in my heart. I’ll warm right up with that!_  
The first thing you want to do is eat some nice, warm pie, but you’re a little too wary of present company to do so. It isn’t easy, and it isn’t exactly fun, but you force yourself to start walking. It’s a bit tricky, since Flowey has thick vines twisted around both of your legs, but you manage. You only stop to gape up at the forest of snowmen (snowdogs?) looming above you, and then your vision flickers.  
Damn teleporting skeletons.  
“There’s a monster up ahead, so b-be careful...” Flowey whispers. “I’ve seen them around, and they a-aren’t usually that dangerous, but I don’t know how they’ll react to a human. I d-don’t know if they’ve _seen_ one before.” You stomp as quietly as you can in place, trying to keep the blood flowing as you listen. This is bad. You’re far too weak to be doing any fighting... or dodging, as it were. You carefully reach into your pocket and pull out the plate of pie. Hopefully monster food heals frostbite. You kind of _like_ having your toes.  
_“Not now,”_ Flowey hisses. It’s frankly a testament to your fondness for him that you don’t flip him off or immediately cuss him out. What does he _mean,_ ‘not now’? You’re _weak_ and _starving!!_ “T-there’s a save point just up a-ahead.”  
...  
_All is forgiven._  
The snow has been cleared in a path through what may once have been a clearing, but much of it has been obstructed by the collapsed remnants of neck-excessive snowdogs. Everywhere you look, there are just... so. many. snowdogs. They rise up out of the snow on all sides, necks elongating and twisting until the force of gravity pulls them apart. A few of the heads are still relatively intact, and you recognize Lesser Dog’s happily panting face in them. Did he make these, or did someone else try to capture his... _new look?_  
You see a familiar sentry station to your left, a near-perfect carbon copy of the pair you encountered earlier. The vines around your waist give a quick squeeze, and Flowey tilts his head to the right. You oblige.  
From behind a particularly large snowdog, you assess the situation... the monster in question certainly doesn’t _look_ dangerous... no more so than anyone else you’ve met, anyway. The save point is _right there,_ and you’re sorely tempted to just dive for it. But the monster Flowey mentioned is close, and if there’s any chance they’ll attack you for your sudden appearance you’d rather not risk it. On the other hand... you’d rather be healed and ready if it DOES come to a fight. You risk a peek at them.  
They don’t look very threatening. As you watch, they take a lazy drag from their cigarette. The smoke cloud they release mingles with the whiteness of their breath in the morning chill, creating the illusion, for just a moment, that they have just exhaled a puff of frost. They appear to be some sort of cow, with small horns and one tagged ear. A brass nose ring glimmers dully in the light, and they appear to be wearing a light layer of purple eye shadow beneath their thick brows. They’re wearing a purple cow-print vest with neon green spots... an interesting choice... with two tasseled belts, crossing one over the other, above a pair of deep purple jeans. You can’t really tell from here if they’re wearing shoes or if those are their hooves, but you can see the fingerless gloves on their hands. You cannot say for sure whether they appear male or female, but you can safely say that they have _style._  
You didn’t know it was even possible to pull off that look before now.  
Without meaning to, you make eye contact.  
_Well, shit._  
You press your back to the snowdog carefully, willing it not to collapse.  
The trek to the save point is short, but it feels longer. You keep expecting an attack, but it never comes. You place your hand over the star and nearly moan in relief.  
Okay, scratch that, the word you’re looking for is ‘audibly.’  
They seem amused as they meet your startled gaze, before lazily turning their attention back to admiring the mess of snow sculptures littered around you.  
The vines around your body pull away as you hover near the warmth of the save. Flowey releases a soft, involuntary sigh of relief, and you glance at him in concern. He looks alarmingly haggard, and although your clothes could probably be marketed as ice armor right about now the sight makes you regret allowing him to warm you.  
Instead of scolding one another for expending so much energy or for being reckless, you both decide to rest. You can only hope you’ll reach Snowdin soon... with luck, you’ll be able to slip into the inn unnoticed and buy yourself a room... and some time... before you both collapse. If not... your only hope is to rely on Sans’ mercy.  
Which... is not an ideal position to be in. How much is 40G even worth, really? Hopefully more than your life. Or soul... or the freedom of monsterkind...  
_Hmm._  
Let’s be honest, you probably feel worse about that than he does.  
If nothing else, you’ve got some gold that might ‘distract’ him again. You hope it’s enough to stave him off until you’re better rested. The tingle of magic flowing through your body is comforting, but unfortunate. The good news is that it heals frostbite! The bad news... is that you are literally freezing to death. Even the warmth of the save is not enough, and you can feel the magic circulating through you grow stronger with each passing moment, as more of you succumbs to the ice. You suppose it’s a good thing that you have this opportunity to continuously heal, but it effectively traps you here until your clothing can both thaw and dry, which just isn’t feasible at this temperature. The save is too gentle, and you can’t bring yourself to voice your complaints as Flowey’s vines coil around you again. This time, you feel the vines encase your ankles. They reach as far down your socks as they can manage without pinching themselves against your shoe, and you feel the heat traveling through your bloodstream. It isn’t enough to warm your toes, but it begins to restore some small amount of sensation to them.  
“Let’s h-hurry, okay?” His voice is softer than you’ve ever heard it. “You can e-explore a _little_ bit, but we can’t really afford the e-energy right now... Town is just up ahead, b-but that doesn’t mean we’ll be safe there, and I...”  
“I know.” You meet his concerned expression with a weary smile, which he returns with one of his own. “I don’t w-wanna be out here a-any more than y-you d-do... Let’s just get t-to that inn... I want to f-fall asleep and never wake up... uh, f-figuratively speaking, of course.”  
The path leading away from the clearing runs right by the hooves of the cow monster, so there’s really no point in avoiding them. You offer them a quick, weak wave, and immediately regret it. You jam your hands into the opposite sleeves and clasp your own forearms, shivering. Normally, this would be the point where you’d make a joke about being a monk, but you’re going to have to pocket that one for later.  
You wonder briefly if Sans’ pockets are warm. You mean, you know _these_ pockets aren’t because your body isn’t producing any heat at the moment. But the pockets on the jacket he’s currently wearing... do bones even get warm? Doesn’t it take a lot for them to heat up? But then, he’s magic... So would his hands be realistically cold, or magically warm?  
You dismiss these thoughts.  
_Magic is weird, and shit happens._  
It’s a little hard to see, but you think the sign beside the sentry station says ‘aware of dog.’ You most certainly are. How did it know?  
“A dog just rushed in here, filled with inspiration. It kept trying to build a snowdog that expressed its own emotions, but as it built, it kept getting more excited about the sculpture. It’s neck got longer and longer, and it added more and more snow, until... Well. See for yourself.” They gesture with their cigarette to the snowdogs, flicking ash from the tip as they do so. “If I had to guess, I’d say _someone_ got a little carried away with their pettings. But you wouldn’t happen to know anything about _that,_ would you?”  
They already seem to know what happened, and you aren’t sensing any danger with your soul... You might as well be honest.  
“A-Actually, I... m-may have let things get o-out of _hand,_ y-yeah...”  
The monster snorts.  
“Then you’re to blame for my sore sides. I just couldn’t stop laughing, it was _hilarious!”_  
_FINALLY._  
AN _HERBIVORE._  
“S-sorry for the mess, t-then... and your s-sides...” That’s totally the cold making you stutter like that. Nothing else.  
“Nah. You made my week, human! I haven’t laughed this hard since Doggo fell asleep on the job and Sans glued a dog treat to his nose. _Oh, man._ You should’ve seen how long it took him! Sniffing and sniffing and going around in circles, trying to track the scent, and it was _right there_ the whole time... because, y’know... he couldn’t see it... _Ah, jeez..._ It took him forever to figure it out! Dogs are _so_ dumb!” They snicker to themselves, and you try to focus on how well the cold masks your frown as hypothermia-induced misery. _Silver-linings._ “Anyway,” they continue, after dabbing a stray tear from the corner of their eye. “Go on ahead. Call it payment for the entertainment. Whatever. I don’t really care. Down here’s as good as up there, right?”  
“I-it’s... what you m-make it.”  
“Right, right... Try not to die soon, alright? A human in the Underground is the most interesting thing to happen in years. I look forward to the chaos!”  
“I c-can promise antics and s-shenanigans.”  
“I’ll take it.” They nod, and turn their head for another hit. You assume this marks the end of your conversation, and quickly move on. You’re too cold for niceties right now. You hear them exhale behind you, and then you’ve come to the edge of the _penultimate puzzle._  
_If you and Papyrus ever start a band..._  
“Alright... I t-think you can f-figure this one out.”  
You can, indeed! The puzzle is pretty self-explanatory... It looks exactly like the puzzles you solved earlier, except the X’s are set into a large sheet of ice and snow. You have to admit... it looks a bit daunting. A pattern of three X’s cap off the upper corners, with ice in every ‘tile’ adjacent to them. Between them, with its topmost piece touching the border of the puzzle, is a small cluster of X’s arranged like a star or an addition sign, with snow between them. The third row down holds the bottom of this star, as well as two other X’s... each spaced out with no X’s or borders adjacent to them... and just past the furthest of these, is the familiar button. Beyond it is... nothing. A gap separates this tile from the claustrophobic path ahead, so densely lined with trees that they appear more like tall, leafless fences on either side. _Okay... I guess solving the puzzle will... get me over there somehow?_ The next row appears to invert its predecessor, with four X’s spaced out, from one border to the other. The middle two each have another X beneath them, and these comprise the second to last row. The seventh- and final- row has only one, and it is located in exactly the center.  
Knowing Papyrus this is probably modeled after something, but Hell if _you_ know what it is. You’re a little preoccupied with your impending _death by Jack Frost._  
In fact, you’re miserable enough that you spare only a single, longing glance at the path sloping down to your right. Flowey notices and offers you a small, encouraging smile.  
“You might as well, you know.” he tells you. “There isn’t much down there anyway.”  
Instead of responding, you just trudge over to the steep path and attempt to step down it. Predictably, this doesn’t go as planned, and you end up slipping onto your arse and _sliding_ to the bottom.  
_I wish I was warm enough to enjoy that._  
Whatever you were expecting... it certainly wasn’t a _masterpiece_ of an ice sculpture, capturing the likeness of Papyrus himself as he cackles maniacally, tattered red scarf and all, although the scarf hangs limply against the Ice Papyrus’ back. After much deliberation, (it’s no contest, really) you come to conclusion that the real Papyrus is better... _His_ scarf actually billows out behind him, with perfect dramatic timing! You wonder how many long hours were spent posing in various breezes to master that effect. You like to think a lot of them. You like the mental image it gives you of a growing Papyrus posing in various locales.  
For a brief moment, you also picture a younger Sans terrorizing any monster who so much as gives his brother’s antics a second glance.  
_Huh._ You’re not sure how you thought of that, but now that you have it actually seems fitting! You can definitely see him brutally punishing anyone who dares to mock Papyrus behind his back.  
You shudder. Yeah, you are never going to pick a fight with those two. You mean, you weren’t planning on hurting Papyrus, even though it sounds like you’ll have to fight him one way or the other... but now you really, _really_ want to be careful how you treat him. Sans hasn’t raised a finger to harm you in any of your encounters, and you already fear him as much as you fear his brother. That’s not a good sign.  
Speaking of Sans, now that you look past the Ice Papyrus, you can just make out a lump of snow that must be its lazier counterpart. You step closer. Yep. That sure is frozen ketchup, all right! In big, thick letters, scrawled across the snow, is the name ‘sans’. Huh. Maybe you’ll ask him to do the writing on your birthday cake the next time it rolls around.  
Yeah, no, you’d like to eat that cake _before_ getting skewered by magic, thanks.  
...Unless it’s a monster cake. Then you guess, strategically, you’d prefer to eat it afterwards?  
_Eh, you never know. Maybe baking is like, super hardcore for monsters. Or something._  
A sprinkling of powder and a deep scuffmark in the snow beside the Snow Sans tells you that someone must’ve kicked at it. Who would do such a thing, to this work of art? Was it a fashionably scary skellie with a cracked cranium? How fresh are those familiar stomp marks over there?  
This is a mystery fated to go unsolved, as you are already scrambling up the slope on your hands and knees, desperately trying to get back to the save for warmth.  
You try to act casual as you walk past the cow monster, but you’re all too aware of your stiff stride. It’s worth it, though. The magic of the save revives you, sending tingles through the parts of you that had long since gone numb. It’s reassuring to feel _some_ sensation in your toes!  
“Damn,” says the monster behind you in an appreciative tone. “You need some help warming that ass?”  
“I... _W-w-what?”_  
They say it so casually that you think you must have heard wrong, but a glance behind you proves that they are, indeed, admiring your hindquarters. You feel conflicted.  
“Well, you know...” they say, flicking the ash from their nearly spent cigarette. “Humans’ll be extinct soon enough. This could be my only chance to take a crack at one.”  
“Ummm.” Neither you or Flowey is comfortable with the topic of this conversation, so you take the first out you can think of. “I-I mean... w-what if m-monsters, DON’T go to w-war with the h-humans? T-then there’ll be p-plenty of us... around...”  
They shrug.  
“Doesn’t matter to me, one way or the other. I like it here just fine.” They scan your body one last time as you turn around, then nod thoughtfully to themselves. “You should get moving. Before you freeze.”  
“R-r-right...”  
You hurry back to the puzzle, fidgeting furiously to keep the blood pumping while you think.  
You can’t really risk taking a fall right now, and you’d rather not turn back again, so you’ll only have one shot at this. Trouble is, as you try to map your path in your mind, you keep losing your place and having to start over! On top of that, it takes you nearly a dozen tries before you come up with a path that may be viable, working from the bottom up... _almost... almost... YES! Got it! Is that... I think that’s it? ...Isn’t it?_  
_..._  
_Yes._  
_Yes, it is._  
_Okay._  
_I’ve got this!_  
Vines squeeze you like a shrinking suit of living armor.  
_“Please_ try to be careful,” Flowey begs.  
You don’t answer him... your shivering makes speech too much trouble to be worth the effort. Instead, you’ll let your puzzling do the talking!  
You try to pretend that you’re wearing ice skates as you slide across the ice. It... _sort_ of works? You slip at the last second and fall chest first onto the first X, but at least it stops you from sailing off the edge. Flowey grunts as you begin to pick yourself up, and you stop. You guess that must hurt, the way he’s coiled around you... Instead of standing, you kneel on your knees, and put the length of Sans’ sleeves to good use. With them folded over your hands as makeshift mittens, you manage to protect your hands from the worst of the chill as you slide northwards, towards the next tile. You must look like a tool doing this, but you’ll worry about appearances once you’re safe and dry.  
You carefully turn yourself to the right and slide again.  
Sliding north for the second time brings you to the top right corner of the puzzle, and you crawl like a giant, gangly baby around the border until you’re facing the button itself. Turning from there, you head back towards the west, and from there, to the snowy center of the star formation. You’re stiff and achy, and your hands actually feel like they’re puffy and bleeding, they hurt so bad, but you manage to activate the top and left X of the star. You don’t pull back the sleeves to check on your palms, because you know the severity of the pain is misleading... your hands are fine. Just a little frostbitten, like the rest of you.  
You slide slowly, carefully, to the left corner and repeat the process, crawling around the border and sliding south, and from there, west again. This deposits you at the bank of the puzzle, almost directly on top of your own footsteps from earlier. The snow looks soft and you really, _really_ want to lay down and close your eyes, but you force yourself to stand up. (It’s not as comfortable as it looks, anyway. You know this from experience.)  
You dance a jig of insanity for a bit of friction heat, and then slump painfully to your knees again to continue the puzzle.  
It doesn’t take much to progress... the first X is right on the border, and from there you just need to slide across to the next one in the row. There, you crawl to the X south of it, reposition yourself so you’re facing east again, then slide over and crawl back to the north. You’ve essentially crawled-slash-sprawled your way along an imaginary spoon of ice and snow.  
You’d really appreciate this puzzle more if you were in a position to sail across the ice like a crazed, puzzle-solving ballerina, but for now you’ll settle for appreciating it in hindsight. You slide east, then climb awkwardly to your feet. Your legs wobble beneath you, but you catch yourself before you can take a nasty fall. You step onto the button.  
Immediately, a land bridge forms between the puzzle and the path up ahead.  
You aren’t so out of it that you can’t appreciate _that_ awesome display of magic!  
You don’t even notice the sheet of ice between the trees until you stumble right onto it, but with a bit of luck and some help from the trees, you manage to avoid falling when you come out at the other end. Go you!  
A weight you didn’t know your head was holding disappears as a small, familiar white dog with eyes like glowing coals leaps down and bounds off into the snow.  
_..._  
_What._  
“Ugh...” Flowey groans. The dog is forgotten in your concern. “I-I’m fine... That dog is s-so aggravating...”  
“W-well... it d-didn’t attack us, s-so...”  
He makes a noise as he rolls his eyes, and your heart sinks as you look forward at _another_ clearing on _another_ clifftop.  
There’s another dog house... you mean sentry station... perched here, among a sea of snow mounds.  
That means you’re going to have to fight another dog, you just know it. And after what happened with Lesser Dog, this new dog could be in _literally any of these piles._  
There’s also a path to the south, but you try to ignore that... it goes down quite a ways, from what you can see, and you just can’t spare the energy. Some of the ledge is visible below, leading back the way you came, but you force yourself to navigate across the ledge you’re already on.  
“It’s a snow poff,” Flowey whispers as you pass the first mound of snow. You laugh. Your voice comes out weaker and shakier than you would like. “And this, is a snow poff.” _Is he trying to cheer me up? What a sweetheart!_ “This, however, is a snow poff.” You think your lip just cracked a little with your grin. “Surprisingly, it’s a snow poff.” You giggle. You’re now standing beside the sign of the sentry station. All it says is ‘woof.’ “And that over there?” Flowey says, his voice louder and eager. “Yeah... it’s a snow poff.” Huh. You’re almost to the end, and you haven’t been attacked yet. Could it be? Could you actually... get _lucky_ this time? And _not_ have to fight a giant dog?? “And that one... Yep. It’s a snow poff.” Wow! Only three poffs to go, and you’re a free human! What are the odds?! “Is it _really_ a snow poff?” Flowey whispers into your ear, making you jump. He snickers. “Ha! Gotcha.”  
“Don’t!” You plead, grinning. “I’m n-nervous enough!”  
“Alright, alright... This one’s a... hey, wait... what is this...?”  
You catch a glint of something shiny in the snow, and reach down to confirm a theory. Sure enough, your fingertips brush the shiny objects so lightly you don’t even feel them through the shivering, but they disappear into your inventory.  
_+30 gold._  
_Total: 165 gold._  
“30g,” you tell him. His petals twitch.  
“...What was 30g doing in a snow poff?!”  
“Snow bank.” You nod sagely. He groans. Grinning like the Cheshire Cat, you step up to the last mound of snow, which is positioned directly in front of the path you need. “Behold!” You’re too cold to gesture grandly, but you hope your tone conveys what you were going for. “A _snow poff!”_  
It is at this moment that your ‘snow poff’ begins to _move,_ but before you can panic, out pops a small dog. It yaps at you, little white tail wagging.  
_Oh._  
_Okay._  
_This isn’t so bad!_  
_It’s actually kindA WHOA THERE._  
_HELLO._  
From the depths of the snow poff... an enormous set of armor rises up.  
_Oh, BULLSHIT!_  
_There is NO WAY that giant thing fit in there!!_  
_THE TAIL ISN’T EVEN POSITIONED RIGHT._  
Somehow, the tiny dog continues to pant at you from its seat within the collar of its suit. Its tail continues to wag, although it is now at least a foot further from the dog’s head than it was a moment ago. The armor is wielding a spear. The spear, predictably, has a face. In fact, now that you’re looking, you’re pretty sure even its _wrist bracers_ have faces! ...Wait, never mind. Those are just engravings. _Tricky._  
You’re at least 90% sure that the armor itself is going to attack you.  
“G-Greater Dog?” You ask.  
“Yep.”  
_“Great.”_  
You shiver and slap your thighs until they sting.  
“H-here boy!”  
Greater Dog perks up, tail wagging furiously, and stamps its feet excitedly. You repeat the gesture and it barrels right into you, knocking you over! Its spear begins to bark hysterically.  
A white spear appears in the air, and you want to close your eyes, but you can’t look away. To your amazement, it turns blue at the last second and passes right through you.  
_Oh thank god, it uses blue attacks!_  
It’s not even stabbing you in the back! How nice of it!  
You pet the dog, despite your awkward position. It pants and licks your face, before (painfully) adjusting itself so that it can curl up on top of you, where it quickly settles in and... appears to fall asleep? You guess it was trying to curl up in your lap, but it’s so big that the bulk of it rests over your stomach and chest. You squirm feebly beneath the crushing weight. Whether it wakes up from your efforts or the spear’s yapping, you neither know, nor care. What matters is that it jumps off of you, accidentally clawing through your jeans in the process. _God, that stings!_  
“You okay?” Flowey speaks so quietly you almost don’t hear him.  
“Y-yeah...” You hiss, fighting through the pain as you search the area for something to throw. GD is looking antsy, and the last thing you need is 200 pounds of white fluff using you as a jungle gym!  
Eventually, you realize the only thing within reach is snow. Well... work with what you’ve got, you guess. You make a pitiful attempt at a snowball and chuck it as far as you can in your condition.  
It splats a few inches from your feet.  
_Well then._  
GD stares at it. It looks at you, then back at the ruined snowball.  
Then it dives to the ground, scoops as much snow into its big arms as it can carry, and...  
_Oh jesus._  
As several buckets’ worth of freezing powder rains down on you from above, you immediately regret every decision you made today that led to this moment.  
A flash of black and red catches your eye.  
_Waaait a second... I know that jacket!_  
And if they’re here, then... that must be the last puzzle up ahead! That means you’re almost done! Right?  
You muster up the strength to pet the dog once more. It vibrates and assaults you with licks until it calms down and settles into you again. At least the actual _dog_ portion of Greater Dog is warm...  
The spear barks. Literally. Four white letters appear in the air, flinging themselves your way. You manage to move your soul out of the way, but Sans’ jacket absorbs most of the physical hit. _This is fine. What’s more pain, anyway?_  
Another ‘BARK’ follows soon after, but it dissipates harmlessly into the air above you.  
You pet the dog.  
You feel your soul indicate a hint of incoming mercy.  
You pet the dog.  
_You pet the dog._  
**_You pet the dog._**  
Your arms are leaden and your breathing is shallow. Just when you think you can pet no more... your soul returns, reviving you as Greater Dog shuffles out of your lap and kneels before you. Before you can ask, the little dog you saw originally leaps out. The tail in the suit of armor remains.  
_You knew that wasn’t his tail. You just KNEW it._  
The... ugh, _real_ Greater Dog, you guess? ...licks you and nuzzles your face. You laugh. Then, as quickly as it hopped out, it leaps back in- head first- and the whole ensemble stands up. The armor extends a hand, and you accept instinctively. It hauls you to your feet, steadies you when you almost fall, and even claps you on the shoulder while its other paw takes yours and deposits your reward into your frozen hands. You honestly think you accepted it just to get it out of the way... its paw is almost _painfully_ warm.  
_+50 gold._  
_Total: 215 gold._  
...That guy’s just a big lug, isn’t he? A big lovebug. If you weren’t injured and freezing, they’d need a crowbar to pry you off of him. You’d hug the _shit_ outta all these dogs!!  
You wonder how GD fits in his sentry station. Maybe it’s the magic of his suit?  
...Or maybe it’s just bigger on the inside.  
You mumble what you hope is a _'thanks'_ before staggering down the newly cleared path... and nearly tumbling off the clifftop in the process. Flowey’s vines stretch out to the permafrost beneath the snow, intent on catching you, but there’s no need. You right yourself, and the vines hesitantly recede.  
“Careful,” he warns.  
“’m trying.”  
You were right. A few moments later, the skeleton brothers come into view. And that’s not the best part:  
Beyond them, not far in the distance... _is the largest sign you’ve seen thus far._  
You can’t read it from here, but its purpose is clear.  
**You are filled with d e t e r m i n a t i o n.**  
Papyrus actually looks surprised. You guess this is the first time you’ve actually traveled the Underground at a reasonable pace. If it wasn’t for your frozen clothing, you’d probably be trekking down that southbound path right about now. You definitely regret not getting to explore more thoroughly, but you guess you’ll take this as a consolation prize.  
It looks like you caught them in the middle of an argument... or rather, the beginnings of an exchange about to become an argument. Sans is sweating again, and his grin is visibly strained as he takes in your... less than ideal condition. Papyrus opens his mouth to speak, then stops. He glances down your figure. Under normal(ish) circumstances, you’d be tempted to ask for dinner first, but you know he isn’t checking you out. You probably look awful anyway... Torn and muddied and bleeding, with bruises and cuts and an odd, plant-based encasing. You’re also wearing Sans’ jacket, and...  
_Oh, shoot._  
_I’m wearing Papyrus’ scarf._  
_THAT’S what that was!_  
_That’s why he isn’t wearing it now. No wonder he looks different!!_  
Well. You must be quite the sight, then! If you look even _half_ as haggard as you feel, you must be positively ghoulish!  
...Not that that’s a bad thing. It might fool the citizens of Snowdin if you’re lucky, assuming they don’t hear the commotion and flock to watch you solve this last puzzle. If that happens, you are utterly screwed. You barely have the energy to focus, much less to dodge or flee!  
_Wait._  
_Don’t..._  
_Don’t tell me..._  
_They’re... blushing?!?_  
They at least have the decency to look concerned, but yes... their faces are indeed beginning to flush with their respective colors. You can’t imagine why... you don’t remember them blushing over you wearing their clothing before. Then again, now that you think about it... maybe it’s BECAUSE you’re so beat up that they’re suddenly reacting this way?  
_The kids are all neglected and the adults are all sadists. Why did I expect any different?_  
“AHEM... HUMAN!!! This will be your final, and most _deadly_ challenge yet! BEHOLD!! The **GAUNTLET OF LETHAL TERROR!!!** ”  
_DEAR GOD HELP YOU._  
The Gauntlet, which has just appeared out of _NOWHERE,_ lives up to its name... _Is... Is that mace on FIRE?! Is that some sort of futuristic PLASMA CANNON?!?_  
_...Is that the dog that was on your head earlier?_  
“When I speak the activation code, it will _fully_ activate!!! CANNONS WILL FIRE!! SPIKES WILL SWING! BLADES WILL SLICE! EACH PART WILL SWING VIOLENTLY UP AND DOWN! There will EXPLOSIONS, FIRE, and possibly even... DEATH!! YOUR death!!! NYEHEHEH! Heh! Only the TINIEST chance of victory will... er... will... W-will you STOP that stomping in place?! HOW AM I SUPPOSED TO GIVE A DRAMATIC VILLAINOUS SPEECH IF YOU KEEP FIDGETING AROUND LIKE THAT?!”  
“S-S-SORRY! ‘m not trying to! I-I jus-st... Ahhh...”  
“Y-you’re not... looking well, human...” Did he just stutter? “I suppose... my other puzzles have done their work in wearing you down!! Which is... GOOD! Good! Now I just need to activate the puzzle... and finish you off... so I can capture you... Yes...”  
“Well? What’s the holdup?”  
“Holdup?! There’s no hold up!! I’m activating it now!! In... a moment... Just have to wait for the perfect time to... to... activate it... for full dramatic effect...”  
...  
“Uh... That doesn’t look very activated, bro.”  
“SHUT UP! It doesn’t activate until I say the code phrase! And I haven’t said it yet!! BUT!! I!! AM!! ABOUT!! TO DO IT!!”  
You wait, trying your best not to fidget too noticeably. Flowey’s vines are starting to slacken... A glance at him confirms your worst fears. He looks almost as bad as you feel, and you aren’t sure you can afford to let him to rest. You wish you had the guts to ask anyway. If worse comes to worse, you want him to have the chance to escape. You’d never forgive yourself if he got killed because of you.  
You use that thought to gather up all of your remaining energy, intent on charging your way through this puzzle with sheer willpower.  
You wait.  
Nothing happens.  
Sans stares at the rickety wooden bridge between you, a bead of sweat rolling down his skull and into his collar. (You try not to be sick.) He gives his brother a sidelong glance, eyebrow quirked in the universal code for _‘...well?’_ Papyrus glares at him, tapping one foot, arms crossed and spine ramrod straight. He actually slouches for just a moment, springing back up and placing his hands on his hip bones.  
“THIS CHALLENGE!!” He announces, louder than usual. Which is really, really loudly. You risk a glance behind him to see if there are any monsters approaching from the town. So far, so good. “It seems... well... TOO EASY! Yes!! This puzzle is FAR too easy to defeat the human with!! It would be anticlimactic!! It’s all timing and no tact, just an obstacle course, really!! We need something... STRATEGIC for our grand finale!!! Yeah... We can’t use this one! I am a skeleton with standards!! My puzzles are very fair! And my traps are expertly poisoned! Away it goes!!”  
To your relief, the gauntlet recedes. _Whoa._ You didn’t have time to see where it all emerged from the first time, but now that your life is no longer in (as) immediate danger, you can actually afford to watch, as all of the flames and cannons and swinging axes fold away from the bridge and into hidden compartments underneath.  
_So cool._  
Sans is staring at his brother with that conflicted _look_ again. This time, when he trains his gaze on you, his expression doesn’t change. No glares. Only confused terror.  
You know that look. Flowey has given you that look before. Several times.  
_“FEAR NOT, HUMAN (NAME)!_ For I, the most _nefarious of nemeses,_ shall prepare an _even better puzzle!!_ And it will be JUST as deadly... NO!! _TWICE_ AS DEADLY!!! And it will require ALL of your wits to be about you!! I suggest you rest if you can, human! Because once I have you in my torture chamber... _you will never rest easy again!_ _NYEHEHEHEHEHEHE~!!!”_  
Demented, childlike laughter follows in his wake as he bounds towards Snowdin, not even pausing to finish his villainous cackling before taking off. Though the exit is as impressive as always, you can’t help but feel that something is missing...  
_It’s the scarf. He’s just not the same without his cape!_  
The chasm beneath the small, rickety wooden bridge makes you dizzy. You would gulp if you could. Instead, you force a shaky breath... instantly regretting it as the stinging in your lungs makes you wince... and take a single step onto it.  
Then you take another.  
And another.  
And another.  
_It’s... it’s stone!_  
_It’s... painted? Who painted this? WHY was it painted?? ...Was it Papyrus?_  
If so, he should really go pro as an artist!  
The paint job is designed to make the bridge appear unstable, with gaps and holes displaying realistically detailed scenery from the forest below. Some of the edges are even made to look thinner than they really are, as you discover when you lose your balance about halfway across. You tell yourself that Flowey will catch you if you fall, but... neither you, nor your little rabbit’s heart believe it.  
“You’re fuckin’ screwed.”  
You’re too startled to even glare at him.  
“E-excuse me?”  
_Wow. He’s not even gonna comment on how I totally called his brother’s bluff and walked right across that scary bridge? How many sinister skeletons does a human gotta out-caper to get some respect around here??_  
“You know he’s just gonna attack ya, right? It’s not like he can rig together a decent puzzle in the time it takes you to _walk across town._ An’ even if he did... he’s still gonna fight ya. Like I said: you. are. screwed.”  
“S-says you!”  
“You can’t even say that without stuttering, Sweetheart.” He rolls his eyelights, but he seems more at ease than before. “The Inn’s just ahead, second door on your left. You should head on in... I took the liberty of letting ‘em know you were coming. May have forgotten to mention you were a human, though. So, uh... try not to let the cat outta the bag.”  
“Claws.”  
“Exactly.”  
Your vision flickers. For a moment you think you might be blacking out, but then you realize Sans is gone and he’s as much of a dick as ever.  
_At least he’s consistent. Consistency is important._  
You tug Papyrus’ scarf a little higher as you pump your legs with everything you’ve got. Trudging through the snow takes a lot more out of a person than you might expect, and you’re having a hard time coordinating your movements. Flowey’s vines begin to shrink away as he droops against your neck, trying to mask his panting. Thankfully, there’s a save point shimmering in the snow outside the inn.  
“Could... could you...?”  
You nod stiffly. His vines wrap around your sleeve as you reach up, grasping your wrist shakily as you lower him, trying to steady him and shield him from view with the other hand. Once he’s firmly planted himself in the snow, he tilts his face towards the save. His petals shake once, then still.  
He only basks in the warmth for a moment, just long enough for the pain to ease from his expression. Exhausted, he smiles up at you, and ducks out of sight. You remain standing, shivering, hands splayed out over the save as magic crashes over you. You only pause to tug the hood of Sans’ jacket further over your head. When the magic tide begins to ebb, you step up to the door.  
You’re not an expert on monster architecture, but you guess you’d call this building ‘Victorian.’ It’s got a lot of accents and trim, and the roof meets at a sharp angle. In fact, if it wasn’t decaying or such a drab grey, it would actually look rather neat and inviting! As it is, it looks like it belongs in a horror movie... as one of the homes in a ghost town. A passage to the back of the building leads into the one next to it, where the ‘S’ in the word ‘shop’ hangs crooked over the door. There’s lettering over the door to the inn as well, but it looks like most of them are missing.  
_S._  
_Inn._  
A crooked nail after the ‘S’ has been pounded halfway into the wood, forming a makeshift period. You wonder if the perpetrator was the same monster (or group of monsters) responsible for the missing letters, or if the owner of the establishment just got tired of replacing them.  
You fumble with the doorknob, but it’s already locked in a turned position. You give it a push with your shoulder and it swings open easily.  
_Oh my god it BURNS._  
Seems you’d forgotten about the harsh reality of walking into an electrically heated building after being out in the snow.  
_OW._  
Needling pain aside, you find yourself in a neat, if barren little shack. A tattered and stained brown sofa stands to your right, against a grey-blue wall. The floor is beautifully paneled wood, though not as polished or as well-kept as Toriel’s. Two wall sconces light the room, on either side of a large wall painting. The top left corner is marred by a long gash, where the paper folds limp against itself. Almost dead center, a huge blotch distorts the image of a dark castle overlooking a sea, as seen from a nearby bog. If you had to guess, you’d say someone smashed a glass against it. The lingering smell of liquor seems to confirm this theory.  
The receptionist (and possibly Innkeeper) is a tall bunny monster with one ear drooping against her head. The other stands straight, giving her a disjointed appearance. A simple silver locket hangs from her throat. She looks bored, leaning against the counter with her head in her palms. She pushes herself up as you walk in, raising one, perfect eyebrow at your obvious hesitation. Without glancing down at her hands, she picks up a pen and gathers a clipboard to herself. A large book, pen attached by a chain, lies open on the counter beside her.  
A smaller bunny monster peeks defiantly over the countertop beside the book.  
As you step closer, working out how best to speak to her, the woman eyes you appraisingly and turns to her clipboard.  
“You must be ‘Sweetheart.’” She says. It isn’t a question. Her pen hovers over the edge of the paper before locating something towards the bottom of the list. You admire her dress as she checks something off. It’s golden, with blue trims and ribbons, and a crisp bow tied neatly around her waist. “Sign in, please.” She nods at the guestbook, and you hesitantly oblige. Should you put down ‘Sweetheart’ or risk using your actual name? ...You decide to play it safe. “Your room’s the first door on the left. That’ll be 80g.”  
Having just finished penning your new nickname, you look up at her with wide eye. Her lips begin to curl into a sneer, and you hurriedly thrust your hands into your pockets. _I should’ve known he wasn’t going to pay._  
You pull out a small cloth sack and a small heap of coins. The cloth feels rough and thick, like burlap. Some of the coins scatter when you place them on the countertop, but the Innkeeper deftly scoops them up before they can roll away. Neutral expression back in place, she accepts your gold and nods.  
_-80 gold._  
_Total: 135 gold._  
_That’s not too bad. I’ve got plenty left._  
“Here’s your room key.” You have no idea how the aforementioned key ended up in her hand. You can see no pocket or hiding place that she might have produced it from. “Thank you for choosing Snowed Inn, Snowdin’s premier hotel. Enjoy your stay.”  
You’re willing to bet cash that this is the _only_ hotel in Snowdin. Thankfully, you have enough tact not to say so to her face. You try to glance behind the counter as you pass, but all you see of the child monster is his little eyes, narrowed in suspicion at you from behind his mother’s dress.  
Well, hey, look at that! A monster parent spending time with their kid! Somehow you doubt they appreciate their ‘quality time’ with Mom, though. It looks boring.  
The hinges of these doors must be well maintained. The only noise you hear as you step through the door is the sound of your own harsh breathing, from trudging up the stairs. That should _not_ have winded you as much as it did. You’re going to blame your continuing near-death experience for this one.  
The room is small and bare, but it wasn’t always that way. A collapsed table has been shoved against the wall to make more room, and a crooked nightstand beside the bed appears to have been hastily repaired. The wall sconce in the far corner is dim, and there is a small, dark still-life painting of a round wooden table, a poor depiction of the night sky visible through a window beyond it. The only things on the table are a lit candle, and a frighteningly realistic human skull. Nails have been hammered flat into the wood on either side of your feet, maybe four or five feet apart. You can’t guess what they’re for. Maybe there are support beams under you? Or there used to be something here...?  
Whatever. You guess you’ll inspect the place more thoroughly once you’re better rested. Hopefully your clothes will dry out while you take a well-deserved nap to celebrate your success.  
The bed is neatly made. You pull back the thick cotton comforter and crawl inside, shivering. You try to get comfortable, hoping your body heat will return soon. In the meantime, you guess the building is warm enough to at least keep you _alive,_ so you try your best to ignore your discomfort. After a few minutes, your forehead begins to feel heavy. Your eyes droop. You’re still cold, and now that your clothes have begun to thaw you’re also wet, but you’re too exhausted to get up and strip down, and you’d just as soon remain clothed given the circumstances.  
Your last thought before you pass out is why in the _world_ Flowey would think so poorly of this inn. Then everything goes black.  
You’re dead to the world.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> GUEEESS WHO UPDAAATED~  
> (Please don't hate me.)  
> After this long, an apology just doesn't cut it... so I've made a blog specifically for holding myself more accountable for my writing! This way, you can see how a chapter is coming along, and pester me with questions or reminders as much as you like! There's already a few posts up, chronicling my descent into madness... I mean, my thoughts while writing the last few thousand words of this chapter... so check it out if you're interested!  
> https://stalkmesoihavenoexcuses.tumblr.com/  
> Anyway... to clear up a few things, when Sans says there are two puzzles left, he's only referring to Papyrus'. The one made by Alphys doesn't count. I also have rough M.S Paint drawings that I was using as references for the puzzles, so I'll probably post those to the aforementioned blog... Speaking of the multicolor tile puzzle, it actually IS randomly generated!! I assigned numbers to every color and rolled a D20 (20-sided dice) a few dozens times to fill in each square of the grid, then worked out a solution to it. (Because I'm a NERD.) Paps would be proud. :] Also, fear not!! We haven't seen the last of Snowdin Forest! The Mysterious Door WILL make an appearance! Just... just trust me. I've got this.  
> Also, good news!! Since the story is more exploration, rather than progression-based from here on out, I'm thinking that I'll start posting chapters in smaller, more frequent chunks. I mean, I can't make any promises, but I kind of want to get to Waterfall soon, thank you very much!! (Oooh Waterfall... You are going to be so fun to write...) Mostly, though, it would just be ridiculous to try to get through every stretch of the Underground in only a chapter or two... More and more things are going to start happening, and I'm better off to base chapter length on EVENTS rather than DISTANCES TRAVELED.  
> They'll probably still be long, though.  
> Like a million points to anyone who can figure out what Paps' ice puzzle is supposed to be without looking at the reference picture!  
> And finally... A quick guide to Sans' eyelights:  
> Brightening: Pretty frequent. Expect to see a lot of this from him. Essentially an adrenaline response, the red iris brightens or flares up as a result of pooling magic, which is itself a natural response to either fear, anger, or happiness. (Hey, it's not ALWAYS bad!)  
> Dimming: Rare. Essentially his red iris beginning to transition into either of the next two phases. Normally, this transition is instantaneous, but when he's not quite ready to make the switch, but he's tending towards it emotionally, this might happen. Could be a very good or very bad sign, depending on which transition is in progress. Usually doesn't last long.  
> Normal white eyelight: EXTREMELY rare. Sans likes to keep his magic at the ready, for obvious reasons. (He also knows the red iris is scarier to most people.) Normal eyelights would indicate that he doesn't feel that he's in a position where he needs to defend himself. He's comfortable.  
> Gone: Frequent. His sockets are empty. You all know this one already.


	6. The One in Which the Reader Asks a Lot of Questions

You sleep so deeply that you don’t wake immediately.

You recognize the presence of danger as a ring of harpies (not unlike snowdrakes) shrieking and advancing on you while you attempt to shield something small and vulnerable in your hands, cradled against your chest. You pull away only enough to look down at it, concerned by the rapid fluttering of the glowing, yellow heart. As the dreamscape begins to lose its structure around you, you are struck with wonder at how something so beautiful could be so strong, and yet so fragile.

No longer able to sustain the illusion, your brain gives up on remembering the images around you. Trees and monsters alike become grainy, blurry, not even silhouettes of what they once were. Then everything is just gone, and the first thing you register is physical pain.

It takes a moment to realize that you are not under attack, and when it finally registers that you are alone in a room, you feel confused.

**THUMP.**

You start, once again feeling your body go rigid with pain. You hiss. Okay. That sound definitely came from the room next to yours. Which means _you_ aren’t in any danger. But with the amount of screaming emanating through the walls, _someone_ must be!

Or... not. As chaos apparently unfolds a few yards from you, you begin to wonder if violence is what you’re hearing. The thought makes you a bit ill.

_Is someone getting murdered or laid in there?_

You aren’t sure which is worse.

A third voice enters the mix, and you become _a lot less indecisive._

_Oh dear. Oh no. Please no._

Sitting up is hard. Sitting up _quickly_ is harder. Your muscles are tight and your joints creak, but you’ve never been so filled with _determination_ in your entire life.

That’s a lie, but in this moment it feels like a truth.

_Ack ...so sore... wish I could heal these..._

You stop.

You scramble to summon Toriel’s pie from your damp pockets.

You are soaking wet. You are miserable. You are even a little bit nauseous.

But you are also _hungry_ and there has _never_ been a better time to eat.

Halfway through your third bite, remembering your companion, you choke. Thankfully your neighbors are loud enough to drown out your gross coughing. You turn to offer an apology and a slice of pie to Flowey, only to remember that he isn’t there. Your muscles begin to relax with the familiar tingle of magic, but magic cannot ease the worry that sinks in your chest. It... reminds you of a yellow heart, actually. A yellow... soul?

Whatever. You’ll worry about dream symbolism when you can actually hear yourself _think_ again. _Sheesh._

They are _really_ going at it. Kudos to them, you guess?

You finish shoveling pie down your throat and put away the remaining four slices. You stand hesitantly, aware of the ache that was left behind. Was the pie not enough, or does magic not consider that sort of pain a wound? You guess you’ll find out.

It takes all of your willpower not to crash through the door to your room and fly down the stairs. As it is, you’re loud enough to alert the bunny monsters as you step into the lobby, hastily adjusting your jacket and scarf and trying to ignore the discomfort of wet clothes plastered to your skin. _At least there’s a save outside._

“Good morning.” The Innkeeper smiles at you. “I see you slept well.”

_Morning?_

“H-how long was I...?”

“You were out for two weeks, I’m afraid. I’m going to have to have to charge you for every day of it.” She grins. You relax. She’s teasing you.

_Probably._

_You hope so._

“Nah, you were up there for about half an hour.” _Only half?!_ “I’m still gonna charge you for a full night, though. You can either rent out the room for the remaining 23 and a half hours, or you can turn in your key and leave. If you do that I’ll have to charge you again if you come back later.”

Hmm.

Well, you suppose you’re better off safe than sorry.

“I... I think I’ll hold onto it for now. I might need it tonight...”

“Suit yourself. But be sure to return it before you leave town. If you don’t I’ll assume you’ve stolen it and report you to the Guard.” Her grin widens as you grimace. “I have a feeling _a certain skeleton_ wouldn’t be very happy about that.” She pauses, thoughtful. “Or maybe he’s into that. What do I know. He never uses the inn.”

_Is she talking about Sans or Papyrus?_

Probably Papyrus, you realize as it dawns on you that Sans would probably just be amused by your room key theft.

It occurs to you as you step into the snow that it seems... awfully trusting of her to let you keep the key. _Too_ trusting. You’ve got enough to worry about, though, so you decide to toss that one on the pile for later... Along with your new fear of hypothermia, your unsettling notion of what the Innkeeper must think about you and the brothers, and your general anxiety about a certain some- _Ah._

He’s shivering as bad as you are, and you would scold him if you could. As it is, you let him form his makeshift body-armor around you as you hover over the save.

“W-where to?” Kinda vague, but hey, it’s all you could manage!

“Grillby’s,” he whispers firmly “It’s w-warm in there. J-just hurry up!”

“Y-you don’t g-gotta...” you trail off. You mean to say “ _tell me twice!_ ” but speaking and shivering _and_ trying to navigate through the snow of an unknown town... which just happens to be filled with people who want you dead... is altogether too much for your smoking brain.

You walk as quickly as you dare. Flowey hasn’t corrected you yet, so the plan is to walk straight until he does. Or until you find it yourself.

...Which you _do._ It isn’t a long walk, and although there are a lot of distracting sights along the way, you are far too cold to stop and admire the townsfolk and their... giant, Christmas tree??

_Another question for the pile._

You nearly trip up the uneven steps to the building. You wonder briefly whose brilliant idea it was to put steps there at all, before the heat slams into you and you’re transported back to a half hour ago. On the bright side, you weren’t out there for very long, so you aren’t _totally_ frozen this time. Unfortunately, being thawed means being _wet,_ and when Flowey’s vines recede there is nothing to keep your soggy clothes from clinging to your bare flesh.

Your skin prickles uncomfortably. Now you aren’t just cold and miserable... you’re cold, _clammy_ and miserable. How lovely.

Flowey tugs your arm, and you follow his wordless advice and veer right towards a booth currently occupied by a monster who appears to have reached the ‘out’ stage of ‘black out drunk.’ They also happen to be another rabbit, and you wonder briefly if they’re related at all to the Innkeeper, before scolding yourself for how racist that sounds.

_Well, misery loves company._

You scoot into the seat across from them. They don’t even stir. If it wasn’t for their breathing you wouldn’t even know they were _alive._ Well, they’re obviously dead to the world... You don’t think they’ll mind sharing their spot.

You take a moment to look around.

It’s not a bad place, actually. Like the Inn, you can see that the owner... Grillby, presumably... keeps this place as neat as possible given its patrons. There’s even a custom neon light hung above the jukebox, with the place name lit up beside a flaming shot glass. The jukebox itself is spotless. It looks like something you’d see in a museum. Or a movie set in the 50’s. The decorations are a bit sparse, but if the number of empty bottles clustered around your new seatmate are any indication, you have a feeling that’s a wise decision on Grillby’s part.

Speaking of, there’s some kind of fire elemental standing behind the bar. He’s cleaning out a glass with a white rag while some drunken fish monster gesticulates indignantly, apparently relating a tale of woe that the bartender feels obligated to listen to. Or maybe he really is just cleaning that glass. For a really long time. Hey, who are you to judge someone for being thorough?

Maybe it’s presumptuous of you, but you’re willing to bet every last coin you’ve got that that’s Grillby.

“We should be safe here,” Flowey whispers. “Relatively speaking, anyway. Grillby’s more concerned with business than souls, so as long as you’ve got the coin he won’t make a fuss.”

“So can I call Toriel now?”

“ _Shhhhh! Not so loud!_ ” At your confused stare, he rolls his eyes. “(Name), how long do you think _Tori_ has been in there? And don’t you _dare_ say ‘the Ruins’ out loud!”

You don’t really see what all the fuss and secrecy is about... There’s music playing from the jukebox and the customers are either talking, drinking, or out cold. There’s a large plant that... _might_ be a monster in the next booth over, and it _might_ be staring at you? And you’ve attracted the attention of a horse monster seated at the bar near the jukebox. You accidentally meet their gaze for a split second, but before you can truly panic they seem to lose interest. You watch them get up, step up to the jukebox, and slip a coin into the slot.

“Um... I’m guessing a long time? What, do they not know she’s there?”

“She isn’t exactly the _social_ type these days.”

Okay. You can take a hint. Talking about Tori and the Ruins is off limits. But what about talking _to_ Tori, _in_ the Ruins?

“What if I call her Tori, then?” You try to speak quietly without _seeming_ like you’re trying to speak quietly. It’s a good thing no one seems interested in your conversation. If the jacket doesn’t make them suspicious, that poor display certainly will!

_Oh._

_Fuuuuck._

You tug at the scarf, suddenly self-conscious.

_Well, that explains why Greater Dog hasn’t jumped into my lap yet._

Indeed, GD is seated at a table nearby. Doggo is with him, still smoking his dog treat. Thankfully the smell of booze and burgers masks the stench from here. You’re reasonably certain that’s LD in the corner, playing cards by himself. _Huh._ You kind of figured he and GD were related? Or at least friends... although you can’t really see GD being mean to anyone, so it’s possible LD just wanted some alone time. Doggo shouldn’t be able to see you unless you move, and you guess, from where he’s sitting, you probably just look like Sans... wearing his brother’s scarf for some reason. Sans is an unpredictable guy, you suppose. He might’ve stolen it for a prank.

Although you have a sickening feeling that you know why, the other two aren’t there. Which means you’re probably safe... for now.

“That... should be fine. Just don’t go shouting it for the _whole bar._ ”

You roll your eyes, about to make a devastatingly sarcastic quip when you realize that Grillby is headed your way.

Your fear only grows as he stops beside you, staring down at you. At least you think he is? His glasses are pointing in your direction.

“...”

The horse monster’s selection begins to play, cutting into the song that was playing when you walked in. The two monsters seated at the bar grumble loudly in protest.

“....”

You wish you could see yourself, just to be sure some part of your face isn’t uncovered by the scarf and the fluff of your hood. You can’t tell if he’s been tipped off somehow, and you can’t exactly ask Flowey anything right now. You can barely feel him trembling against your neck.

“.....”

You thought he wouldn’t make a fuss in his own bar? Maybe you should mention that you have gold... try to bribe him with coin, like you did with Sans. Wow, did that really happen _today?_ So much has happened that you can hardly believe that it’s only been a few hours...

“...Are you going to order, or should I charge you for wasting my time?”

...

....

...Oh.

_Oh._

_OH._

“U-umm... Y-yeah, uh, how much would a... burger, cost?”

“A burger is 40G, do you want a drink with it?” He glances pointedly at your companion, and the empty bottles surrounding them.

“Oh!” That’s actually pretty reasonable. After the Vice Cream guy, and then the inn, you were a bit worried... “N-no, that’s alright. The burger will be fine, thank you.” When he doesn’t leave, you realize with a start that you should probably pay the man.

_At least you’ve got the hang of using your inventory!_

_-40 gold._

_Total: 95 gold._

He says nothing as he takes your money, striding towards the bar and the door behind it that probably leads to the kitchen. You start to relax as he disappears inside. No one seems concerned by your exchange, and even the plant monster seems to be busy with something you can’t see.

_Can plants use cell phones?_

You take yours out, turning it over in your hands and feeling the bulk of it. It’s old and the screen is cracked, but at least it’s mobile and you can hold it in one hand. You doubt it has any texting or gaming features, but it seems to be connected to the cell towers of the Underground. It has only one contact, and it’s listed as ‘Mom.’

You guess it’s time to check in. ‘Mom’ is expecting you.

_*Rinnnnnng*_

_*Rinn-*_

“Hello?”

“Hey, T! It’s me.”

...

You probably should have thought of something to say before dialing.

Oh, well. Too late now!

“(Name)?” Her tone makes you feel a little guilty for not calling sooner. _She must have thought you were..._

“Yeah! Hey, sorry... I would’ve called earlier, but I was at the Inn and I fell asleep, and when I woke up it was a little... uh, loud. So, I’m at Grillby’s now... Oh, have you been to Grillby’s?”

 _I am the reason texting was invented,_ you think as you toy with the end of Papyrus’ scarf with your free hand, kneading it like a stress ball just for something to do.

“I have heard of it.” She sounds amused, to your relief.

“Yeah, I kind of figured... Anyway, I just thought I would check in, so you’d know I wasn’t... you know... dead.”

“I’m glad. It’s good to hear that you made it all the way to Snowdin in one piece.”

“Yeah, about that...” You know she can’t see it, but you can’t help but grin. Your shivering has subsided, and now that you’re actually starting to warm up your mood is rising, too. “I met Sans. Thanks for that.”

“I’m afraid I don’t know what you’re talking about,” she says, in a cheeky tone that tells you she knows _exactly_ what you’re talking about.

“No, seriously, thanks. I would’ve frozen to death otherwise... Speaking of which, you were right about the cold.”

“It _is_ in the name.”

“Yeah, yeah, I know. Have you ever been to Snowdin? Personally, I mean?”

“Of course! Snowdin was one of the first settlements in the Underground. When monsters began to move out of the Ruins, some of them found they preferred the cold. They built a town and settled in while the others moved on. Waterfall and Hotland were also formed in this way, by the monsters who preferred their environments.”

“’Waterfall and Hotland?’”

“The King is still terrible at names.”

 _Yikes._ Although there is amusement in her voice, there’s also a darker undertone that makes you wonder if the king was the ‘inhabitant’ she’d _‘disagreed’_ with in New Home. Maybe a subject change is in order?

“What about New Home?”

“New Home is the current capital of the Underground. It was built beside the barrier, as close to freedom as was possible.” Her tone softens. “Please be careful once you get there. The monsters of New Home have more HOPE and are more _determined_ than their counterparts. Most of them have never seen more than a glimpse of the barrier, but they can sense how close they are to freedom, and their resolve to escape is consequently higher... as is their killing intent. They will not be easily dissuaded...”

“That’s fine,” you interrupt. “Making friends out of people who hate me is my specialty!”

She _snorts,_ and you feel yourself light up with satisfaction.

“Ffff hehe. Well, the monsters of New Home will be much harder to befriend than a few froggits and a lazy sentry, but I’m glad you’re feeling optimistic! As long as you stay determined, I believe you’ll do great things.”

The way she says it makes you wonder if Toriel is in on whatever is up with that word, but that is a question that is going to have to wait at the back of the line.

“So, how’d you meet Sans, anyway? I thought you didn’t get out much. _Ooh!_ Sorry, my food is here!” You watch Grillby make his way towards you balancing a tray on one hand. You catch a whiff of freshly grilled burger, and your mouth begins to water.

“Ah, that is too bad... I was _so_ looking forward to answering your question, but I guess that’s a mystery that will have to wait until you have eaten.”

You pull the phone away to stare at it incredulously, fully aware of what she’s doing.

“ _T!_ ”

“Ffffehehehe~”

_*Click*_

Did she... She did, didn’t she? She _hung up on you!_

You start as the tray slides onto the table in front of you. You look up at your crackling server, unable to wrap your brain around how silently and quickly he moves, and before you can stop yourself you blurt out your most pressing thought.

“That was fast.”

The pale flames you assume to be his eyes (mostly because of the glasses perched over them) seem to shift slightly. Is he raising his eyebrows at you?

“I... I mean... Wow, you work really fast!” You try to clarify what may have come across as flippant, only succeeding in sounding painfully awkward. To your relief, Grillby chuckles.

“Thank you. Will that be all?”

_Wow, so professional and polite! You’re getting whiplash here!_

“No, that... I don’t need anything else. Thank you.” You have to physically restrain yourself from pouncing on that burger. You can feel drool threatening to spill down your cheek. _Jesus that smells like heaven._

He seems unaccustomed to receiving such comments without some threat of violence involved. The jagged line of flames that you assume to be his mouth flickers, seeming to quirk and widen. You’re no expert, but you think that means he’s happy. You’re pretty sure that when monsters smirk it’s a good sign. For them, if not for you.

He hasn’t made it halfway to the counter before you dive for your food. You are on that burger like yourself on Flowey’s nerves. Ketchup smears over your face, pickle juice drips from your chin, but you don’t care because you’ve just taken your first bite of an authentic Grillby’s burger.

_The heavens open up. A halo of holy light surrounds you. A chorus of angels burst into song._

_This. is the best burger. that you have **ever. had.**_

_So this is what my soul is worth._

You have never sympathized more strongly with Sans’ plight in keeping you alive.

You consider making more of an effort to actually survive instead of being an utter goofball all the time. That’s right; the burger is so good you consider _actively_ _trying to keep yourself alive._ Truly, Grillby has outdone himself this time. You would sell your soul for this burger. You’d sell anybody’s soul for this burger.

_Okay maybe not Flowey’s. Or Papyrus’. Maybe Sans. You’re on the fence about that one._

You moan.

Apparently the sound carries better than your phone conversation, because several monsters around the bar including the plant creature in the next booth, turn to look at you funny. (Well. The plant doesn’t have eyes, but it does turn in your direction. You can tell because you’ve suddenly got a perfect frontal view of its entire mouth, which is a wide row of enormous chompers that look like they could bite your entire head off.)

And all you can think about it is how killer their Piranha Plant cosplay would be come Halloween.

_...Do monsters celebrate Halloween?_

_...Would Halloween be racist?!_

God, you hope not. Who wants to live on the surface without Spoopy Month.

You contemplate asking Sans for his opinion on the Skeleton War. Sans seems like the person least likely to skewer you for asking. Even if it is only because he’s too lazy.

_And because this burger is better than memes. There, I said it!!_

You happen to glance at the counter as you emerge from another bite of pure paradise, possibly because it occurs to you that the person responsible for creating this heavenly thing is standing right there. And standing he is, watching you. You lock eyes. His cheeks, which were already a light blue against the violet... and you definitely don’t remember seeing _that_ when he’d served you... spark white.

Well. You’re on a roll today.

_Is it bad that I’ve made more monsters blush in one day than humans in like... my entire life? It certainly feels that way, anyways. Talk about finding your niche!_

You try to eat more quietly, you really do. But this is the first real _meal_ you’ve had since waking up in a bed a flowers. You’ve had nothing but pie and candy since then, and as good as Toriel’s pie is, there are few things in life more satisfying than a well-made burger. You don’t even realize you’ve finished it until you go in for another bite and your teeth click together. You seriously consider blowing through the rest of your gold by buying another, maybe with some fries and a drink this time. There is no doubt in your mind now that anything Grillby makes will be worth the price. Thankfully, Flowey draws your attention by shifting uncomfortably beneath your scarf.

_Oh, no. You’re already thinking of it as yours. You’re going to be a legend. “The Human That Bedded the Guards, Stole Their Clothes and Then Probably Tripped Off a Cliff or Something.”_

The Underground would never know that you died without ever having smooched a skeleton.

“You should probably call back Tori,” Flowey mutters, ducking under the scarf and disappearing beneath your jacket. Come to think of it... you’re finally starting to dry out. It won’t be long before the jacket and scarf combo get to be too much for the warmth of Grillby’s bar.

You guess he has a point. Maybe Toriel will be able to distract you from the siren call of another burger?

_Riiiiiiin-_

“Ah, hello! Did you enjoy your meal?”

_The burgers. They beckon._

“ _Hell yes._ Whoops. Sorry.”

“Watch your fucking language, my child.”

You burst into a fit of snickering, and just like that the burgers are forgotten.

“Sorry, _Mom._ ” You know she can hear your grin in your voice. “Are you going to wash my mouth out with soap?”

“I’m going to wash it with fire.”

You probably shouldn’t laugh at that, but you do. Have you spent too long underground, or were you always this morbid? It’s probably a bit of both.

“Okay, okay... In the interest of saving my taste buds, which I need unburnt to enjoy Grillby’s delicious, _delicious_ burgers...”

“ _Snrk._ ”

“Oh, hush! They are delicious buns!”

You hear muffled laughter from the other end of the line. Sounds like she’s holding the phone out with one hand and laughing into the other... how dare she deprive you of ugly snorts and giggles?! You love those! You _live_ for those!! You’ll just have to try harder.

“You know you want these hot buns, T.”

“FfffhAHAHAHAHAhaha...!”

“That’s more like it.” You nod to yourself. “I want you to always remember that I am _hilarious._ ”

“Thank you for the reminder.” She’s still catching her breath.

“You’re welcome.” You’re still smug as the Cheshire cat.

You think you hear a very faint, very strangled _don’t flirt with my Mom!!_ from deep within Sans’ jacket.

Oh. Is that what you’re doing? You thought you were just telling a joke...

“I want to clarify that I was talking about Grillby’s hot buns, not mine. Although I do hope that my buns are also hot.”

Amid another burst of giggles, you manage to make out her response. “(Name), your buns are _on fire._ ” If she says anything else, it’s drowned out by the both of you laughing.

“Oh my god.” You gasp. “There are actual tears in my eyes. There are tears in my eyes right now. That was terrible. I love it.”

You are vaguely aware of the atmosphere around you relaxing, as the last few monsters who’d been staring at you turn back to their companions and drinks.

All except for one.

“YAGH!” You barely manage to keep a grip on the phone when something large and furry barrels into you. You know what it is. You recognize this particular brand of being crushed beneath a monsters’ weight. Greater Dog forces his way as far onto your lap as the booth will allow, eventually settling for kneeling beside you with his head and shoulders on you, panting up at you. He begins to sniff at your jacket, but you divert his attention by patting his forehead, scrunching your nose as his tongue begins a very thorough slobber-bath starting at your wrists. You laugh. “Hey there, big guy.”

Toriel’s voice rises sharply from the speaker of the phone, and you return it to your ear, wincing.

“Hey! Sorry! I’m alive, just... got surprised there, is all.”

“What happened? Were you attacked?!”

“No, no! I’ve actually got a dog in my lap now.”

“...A... dog?”

“Yeah. He’s, uh... I think he’s one of the guards, actually? It’s cool. We’re friends.” You smile down at him and scratch his neck. “Aren’t we, GD? Is it cool if I call you GD?” He barks.

“I... see you’ve managed to make a few friends since you left the Ruins. I really should not be surprised...”

“No, you shouldn’t. I told you: making friends out of people that want to kill me is my specialty! Although to be fair, I don’t really think GD wanted to kill me... He just wanted pats.” _And head scratchies,_ you think, as you move your scratching hand behind his ears. He squirms happily and continues panting. You guess he finally recognized your voice? You look up.

Doggo is squinting at you, apparently trying to figure out who you are. Your soul doesn’t sense any hostility, so you guess you’re safe for now. You suppose it would be weird for Greater Dog to snuggle up to someone like Sans... You just hope he loses interest before he decides to come over for a closer look. You’re not sure you can rely on Grillby to protect you if one of his patrons picks a fight in his bar... at most he might just toss you both out, and you _really_ don’t want that. LD is engrossed in his card game, completely oblivious to the world around him. The other two are still missing. You breathe a sigh of relief.

“Hm. Well, I’m glad you’re safe.”

“Yeah. About that... weren’t we talking about something before you so _rudely_ hung up on me?” You grin.

“I don’t remember doing such a thing. Are you sure that was me~?”

“It most certainly was you! Listen: I only have one contact on my contact list, and it says ‘Mom.’ I only know one person maternal enough to be listed as the universal ‘Mom’ and it ain’t me!”

She chuckles.

“Oh-ho, that’s very sweet of you! I almost feel bad for hanging up on you now.”

“‘Almost?’”

“Precisely.”

You sigh in mock exasperation. “I believe we were talking about a certain... _friend_ of yours? A certain friend that you might have made a certain _bet_ with, in my favor?”

“Ah, _that_ friend.”

“Yes, that one.”

“I do have so _many_ friends, you know.”

“Of course.”

“They are hard to keep track of sometimes.”

“I understand.”

“...” She hesitates, and you’re about to prompt her again when she cuts you off. “Sans and I... have never actually... formally met. We speak through the door. We have never seen one another. We’ve... been trading knock-knock jokes and bad puns for a while now, but it’s always through the door, never face to face. He never asks who I am, or what I am doing here. I never ask about his personal life. I know he has a brother, and I have heard a great deal about him, and I know that Sans is a sentry who guards the path between the Ruins and Snowdin. That is all. As for our bet... Sans is very lazy, but I had to be sure that he wouldn’t attack you. He was the first obstacle you would face after leaving here, and I...”

“I understand. I know why you did it. And it worked, so I’m thanking you!”

You hear a soft exhale from the other end.

“Thank you.” Her teasing tone returns. “You are very good at understanding the motives of those who have tried to kill you.”

“What can I say? I’m a natural!”

Neither of you mentions how this bet was made before your attempted escape. Neither of you acknowledges that your escape was inevitable. But you are both aware of it.

GD tilts his head in confusion, reminding you of his presence. You pet harder. Pet capacity is now at 35%.

You really want to ask her about all this stat business that Flowey has been so cagey about, but you’re a bit worried how GD would react to you discussing fighting in front of him, so instead you turn your attention to Snowdin.

“So what was this place like, back when it was first built? A lot of the buildings seem to be kind of old, and... I bet they don’t look as good as they use to. N-not that they’re bad now! They kind of have a cool ‘ghost town’ vibe...”

“To my knowledge, the ghosts tend to prefer Waterfall. But yes... I imagine the town has seen better days. In its time, Snowdin was... quaint. A lovely little villa, if a little empty. There... weren’t many of us then. Our numbers had risen since the war, but...”

“Say no more.”

“Still. Snowdin was a friendly place... it was so small that everyone knew everyone else, so you could walk through and greet everyone that lived there with no difficulty. They didn’t have much, but a shop and an inn were set up for the monsters who hadn’t yet left Home... that is, the Ruins... to visit if and when they decided to make their way back towards the barrier.”

“When was the last time you saw it?”

“It was the last place I visited before I moved back here. That was... it has been many years. Most of the monsters I knew will have died by now.”

“What do you mean?” You know that she’s old, but it hadn’t occurred to you that this was specific to her. Monsters and magic are still a mystery to you.

“I am... a boss monster. Boss monsters only age as long as our children live, and I... I have no children left.”

“Oh.” _Wow, real comforting (Name)!_ “That’s... I’m sorry.”

“ _Do not be sorry. You are not responsible._ ” For someone who shoots fireballs from her paws, her tone is chill as ice. You involuntarily shiver. GD whines.

 _Wait. Didn’t Flowey tell you about boss monsters? Wasn’t he...?_ Well, that makes sense, right? Except... _Wait a minute! He said the king was the only boss monster left!!_

_Hoooly shit you think you know who Toriel is now._

“...Hello? I apologize if I frightened you, I did not mean...”

“Wait. Does that mean I can call you Boss Lady? Or Mom Boss?”

“Wh-what?” She giggles.

“You know, like ‘Mob Boss’ except you’re the Chief Mom...”

“Pff, oh my god...”

“No, this is me.”

“Pffhehehe~”

“What are your orders for me, Boss Mom? This is the Serial Befriender speaking!”

“Cereal Befriender?” She snickers.

“ _Yes._ I will hug the _wheat_ out of your cereal boxes and then love their _grains_ out!”

“Oh, the monstrosity!”

You both laugh. You continue to pet GD. Petting capacity is now at 42%. You renew your efforts and soon his tail is kicking up a small dust cloud while his foot thumps against the floor. You chance a glance at Doggo in your peripheral vision. He’s returning the gesture, keeping an eye on you without outright staring. No one else seems concerned. You wonder if GD is an exception to the usual rules against PDA.

You feel Flowey before you hear him.

“Hey, we... we should get going...” He whispers. GD’s ears perk at the noise.

“Alright. Oh! Hey, T? This has been great, but... I think I’m gonna do some exploring. I promise I’ll call you again, though!”

“You had better. If you die, there will be no one to return my cell phone.”

“Awww I love you too, Mom!” You stop. “Is... is it cool if I call you ‘Mom?’ I mean, I was just joking...”

“It’s fine. No one has called me that in a very long time, but... it’s nice.”

“Oh. Well in that case... I’ll call you back, Mom!”

“See that you do. If you die, I’ll ground you for one thousand years.”

“Oh noooo! My TV privileges!”

She snickers. “Get going, you idiot! Don’t make me hang up on you again.”

“Okay. ‘Bye!”

“Until next time, my child. Stay safe.”

_*Click*_

Wow. You’re actually sad to hear her go. You shake your head and move to get up.

Greater Dog blocks the way.

_Oh. Right._

You pet and scratch until your entire arm is tired. Pet capacity finally reaches 100%. GD slides out of your lap and attacks your face with doggy kisses before returning to his seat. Doggo immediately turns his attention to GD and leans across the table, barking questions about his behavior and the identity of the jacketed stranger in the corner. You decide this is the perfect time to skedaddle.

And you do. Your skedaddling prowess is unprecedented.

“ _Okay... where to?_ ”

“ _The library. You wanted to learn about this place, right? Just turn to your left and keep going straight._ ”

“ _I see it._ ”

The sign, which appears to have been broken off and hastily repaired, reads ‘ _Librarby._ ” The piece that is hanging crooked where it was nailed back into the building is the part that reads ‘ _arby._ ’ At this point you guess fixing it is a moot point. Most of the windows have been smashed in, and some of them actually have two or three cracks where rocks or something of a similar size have been lobbed through them.

You gather that the librarby is _not_ the town’s most popular feature.

It may be the teenagers’ favorite hangout spot, though. If by ‘hangout’ you mean ‘building they like to lean in the shadow of and occasionally pelt with rocks.’ You think you can even see some graffiti sprawling around the far edge of the building, and you’re willing to bet that every inch of brick hidden from the view of the street is covered in it.

It’s nice to see the next generation hasn’t lost that creative edge.

The library is thankfully not as cold on the inside as it is on the outside, although there’s no heat source that you can see. Now that you’re dry you aren’t too worried about the temperature, although you are a little worried about the books. Isn’t the draft letting in moisture that could damage them? Shouldn’t they board those up or something?

“Sure, belittle my work.” snaps the librarian, a grey-green lizard monster standing behind a counter. “Like you could do any better...”

“O-oh, no! No! I wasn’t... I was just worried about... well, the windows are... they’re... kind of...”

“I’m aware.” He sneers, adjusting his glasses and squinting at you. “I’m _also_ aware that the sign outside is misspelled, so don’t bother reporting it. It’s not getting fixed, so stop asking.”

“Oh... I thought the sign was charming!”

“Yeah, right. What do you want?”

“I just wanted to browse, sir. If that’s alright with you?”

He studies you suspiciously. The color of his scales is almost sickly, and his turtleneck is puke-yellow and pulled up farther than it should be. You notice that there’s a small scratch on the side of his face.

“...Fine. But if I see you mishandling those books, I’ll throw you out on your ass with a fresh beating! I don’t want to see any ripping, tearing, or throwing, do I make myself clear?”

“Perfectly, sir.” _Did someone throw something at him?!_

You make your way over to the back wall, where the bookcases are all lined up. They seem to be color-coded, but the labels on the shelves are scratched over or are too faint to make out. The three monsters huddled around the only table available are sneering at you, so you decide to work your way left to right... starting as far away from them as possible.

The farthest left shelves are stocked with books bound in red covers. They’re all of varying sizes, and there are a lot of books that are lying flat or tilted thanks to the gaping holes where volumes have evidently gone missing. Still, aside from a few rough patches and the odd scratch or two, most of these actually seem to be in decent condition!

You select a slim, slightly worn cover and turn over the pages. To your surprise, the pages are handwritten and even illustrated! You have no idea what’s happening in the illustrations, but it appears that this book has been written by a child.

You aren’t sure what to make of this information.

Judging by the title page, it appears to be a school report about monster funerals, courtesy of ‘Monster Kid.’ _Yeesh. You sure know how to pick ‘em!_ The fact that they literally signed their name ‘Monster Kid’ hardly phases you. You toss that question with the others and get to work.

_Monster funerals are, technically speaking, cool as hell. When monsters kick the bucket, they turn into dust. At funerals, we take that dust and spread it on that person’s favorite thing. Then the person’s essence will live on in that thing. Pretty badass, right? When I die, I hope they spread my dust on a weapon. Something cool, like a spear or a katana or something! Then my next of kin could use me to avenge my own death! Am I at the page minimum yet? Essays are stupid._

You fumble with the book. Thankfully you catch it before it spills to the ground, but the embarrassing _squeak_ that escapes you is answered by three separate tones of feminine snickering. Your face burns, but it’s nothing compared with the weight of the knowledge this small, rude child has just laid upon your shoulders.

_Oh golly that explains so much._

On the bright side, at least you never touched the stuff!

...Except when you hugged Tori.

_...And she smelled so good! It’s not fair!!_

You slide the book back into its place on the shelf and eye the other volumes dubiously. Very few of them have titles printed on the spine, and none of those titles sound very promising. You decide not to risk it... Maybe the blue shelf will be more your thing?

_While monsters are mostly made of magic, human beings are mostly made of water. Humans, with their physical forms, are physically stronger than us. But they will never know the power and versatility of magic. Good! They don’t deserve it!! I hope their souls shrivel and rot in their chests like the stinking vermin they are!!!_

_Yeesh again._ That’s two for two. Well, at least it’s... informative? This shelf seems to be dedicated to anatomy. You guess that’s cool. You flip through a few more titles, trying to puzzle out the meaning of various diagrams. You hope to find something on battle mechanics, but after stumbling on a book about monster reproduction you’ve had enough.

_Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, yellow shelf!_

You flip open a book with a blank cover.

_Garland huffed. She was sitting on the steps to her house in Snowdin, waiting for something interesting to happen. Suddenly..._

“HEY! Put that back!! I haven’t finished writing that one yet!”

You jump. A blonde monster wearing a faded pink scarf is glaring at you. You guess the library must be a sort of... open access forum for writers? It would explain the book report...

“Sorry! I didn’t know.” You’re careful to put the book back where you found it. You wouldn’t want her to lose it before it’s finished!

She harumphs, like you were supposed to know which books were acceptable to read and which weren’t. You suppose the place is only used by a few regulars, so it’s possible she wasn’t expecting there to be any visitors who might accidentally pick it up. If it bothers her she doesn’t say it, turning back to the table to glare at the paper spread out in front of her.

You’re too afraid to pick out another book from the yellow shelf. What if this is the shelf for that sort of thing? You don’t want to annoy anyone else! _I guess it’s your turn, orange shelf._

...There are some promising titles here pertaining to souls and magic! You pull one labelled ‘Soul Encounters’ and sure enough, it’s exactly what you’re looking for.

_Because they are made of magic, monsters’ bodies are attuned to their soul. If a monster doesn’t want to fight, its defenses will weaken. And the crueler their intentions, the more their attacks will hurt. Therefore, if a being with a powerful soul struck with the desire to kill...  
Well. I think you know the rest._

You are beginning to understand how humans won the war.

As you return the book to its place, you begin to wonder if your ancestors had access to healing magic. You can only assume that they did, if they lived in peace with monsters at the time. You also wonder if the monsters were prepared for an attack, and not for the first time, you wonder how the war was started. Maybe one of these shelves is for history books?

You spot a familiar title amongst the light green covers of the next bookcase. _Part 4, huh?_

_Fearing the humans no longer, we moved out of our old city, Home. We braved harsh cold, damp swampland, and searing heat... Until we reached what we now call our capital. “New Home.” Again, our King is fearsome, but bad with names..._

You’re too worried to snicker.

You’re a human. You’ve ‘fought’ monsters. And you’ve survived, despite the best efforts of multiple monsters who have, as far as you can tell, been fighting or training to fight their entire lives. You, on the other hand? You’re just you. If a pacifist like yourself can withstand their attacks... you can only imagine the damage a human soldier with a ‘desire to kill’ could do...

You risk a glance at where Flowey is curled up against your neck, trying to read along over the scarf. He’s so convinced that monsters will destroy humans once set free, but right now, you’re more worried that humans will finish the job.

_Well. Toriel did say they’ll get stronger the closer we get to New Home._

The last bookcase is filled with dark green covers. A ladder obscures most of it, and you push it experimentally. Sure enough, though rusty, it moves. You pull a particularly tattered cover from a place previously covered up, as though it had been hidden on purpose. To your surprise, the pages inside are older and more tattered than the cover itself! You can barely make out the first part of it... it appears to be a treatise on the nature of souls. Is this the shelf for philosophy...?

 _Love, hope, compassion..._  
This is what people say monster souls are made of.   
But the absolute nature of “soul” is unknown.   
After all, humans have proven their souls don’t need these things to exist.

...

**_OUCH._ **

There are edits scribbled into the margins by angry readers, insisting that monsters prove this too, but the original author’s implications are clear. This book must have been written a long time ago... its yellowing pages were likely first bound hundreds of years ago.

You don’t feel like reading anymore.

You replace the book and, as an afterthought, you replace the ladder too. You hear the librarian breathe a sigh of relief behind you. It’s followed by a frustrated groan from the scarf lady.

“ _Ugh._ I hate working on the newspaper. There’s never anything interesting to report! Nobody even died this week!”

You step towards the table tentatively. The other two ladies eye you, but don’t say anything.

“What about guard activity?”

“What about it?” she snaps.

“You could investigate the... human sightings that they’ve been dealing with?”

“Please,” she scoffs. “those are just rumors. And even if they were true, so what? A human shows up, a human dies, and then what? Everyone’ll already know. What do they need to read about it in the paper for?”

“Well...” you wrack your brain for suggestions. “there’s always more to the story than meets the eye. Maybe you could try to get an interview with the guards, or ask around and report on personal encounters with the human...”

“And tell everyone their own stories?” she doesn’t sound convinced.

“People like to read their own stories! And maybe they don’t know _each other’s_ stories yet?” She doesn’t respond, and you can’t see her face so you don’t know if she’s ignoring you or not. “Or I guess you could fill it with games and comics...”

“We already do that.” the lady beside her interrupts.

“Uh...” You reach for _anything_ to say. “Recipes? Local culture articles? ...Short stories?”

“You know what?” She starts up suddenly, and you take half a step back. “You’re right. There’s nothing else to report on, so why the hell not? Some kid ran by out front boasting about fighting a human, might as well find the brat and see what we can wring out of ‘em.”

“‘We’?” The other ladies chime in together.

“Hell no. I like it in here. I’m working on a crossword that’ll have us receiving death threats again, mark my words!” the woman next to her scoffs, tapping what looks at first glance to be a thick quill on the table for emphasis. On closer inspection it turns out to be an ordinary pen with a black feather taped to the side. You’re not sure what bird that came from, and part of you isn’t sure you want to know... knowing the Underground it could be anything from plastic to snowdrake.

“Please don’t.” The lady across the table rolls her one eye at her coworker. She reminds you of Loox, but she’s a dull reddish pink and her horns are like sharp little crab pincers. “That skeleton guard will throw a hissy fit again. I don’t feel like getting dusted because you couldn’t just stick to word searches and cryptograms.”

“Fuck word searches. When I was younger, my teachers gave me word searches when they ran out of assignments. I wasted my entire childhood doing word searches and look where it got me! Sure, I’m the number-one word-search creator in the Underground... but what kind of legacy is that? Nobody even likes them!”

“I like them!”

“That makes two of you, then.”

What’s with people rolling their eyes at you today?

“Fine then, stay here and do the same useless shit you do every day. I don’t need you. At least I’m _trying_ to shake things up a little. You two have gone old and _soft!”_

You speak up hesitantly as they glare at each other. “Could you... maybe... not swear so much...? Please?”

They ignore you.

With a heavy, put-upon sigh the puzzle-maker sets down her pen and pushes back her chair. You’ve been able to recognize at least _something_ familiar in most of the monsters you’ve met, but you just don’t know what to make of this one... her skin is blotchy and discolored and... possibly melting, you aren’t sure. You can’t really tell where the flesh ends and the make-up begins. It’s a bit disquieting. Her hair is nice, though!

She scoffs. “Thanks. But honey, with that jacket, I’m not sure matching _your_ tastes is a compliment.”

_Wait, I said that out loud?!_

_..._

_HEY, WAIT A MINUTE._

The lady with the scarf grins at her coworker. “Don’t be so hard on ‘em. He’s actually kind of cute!”

“W-wait... no! We’re not...” Your face flushes.

They ignore you.

“But he’s such a _slob._ ”

“You’re hardly one to talk!” the Loox-like lady you’ve mentally nicknamed ‘Crabapple’ chimes in. While you’re at it, you decide on ‘Scarflet’ and ‘Mulan’ for the other two. Sure Scarflet has a pink theme, not red, but they can’t all be winners! Mulan’s hair just happens to remind you of the earlier scenes of that movie.

“Excuse you?! I like my men _squishier_ is all!”

“Would you make an exception for his brother though?”

Mulan hums in thought.

“Nah. He’s not bad to look at, but he pisses me off. It’s not worth it.”

Scarflet tugs some blonde hairs out from beneath her scarf and makes a show out of adjusting it and preening.

“I’ll take a bite of either to go, thanks.”

Her friends roar with laughter.

You aren’t sure you want to be a part of this conversation.

“I’m telling you, if you want to see a _real_ monster you should head to the capital...”

While Mulan is preoccupied with gossiping about the abundance of attractive men (and women) in New Home, you step past her to look at her crossword puzzle.

She wasn’t kidding. It’s a near solid block of letters, and what few black boxes you can see seem to be arranged in the shape of a fist in the center, giving a middle finger to the viewer. You’re both terrified and impressed!

“That look in your eye... you’re someone who has difficulty solving crosswords, aren’t you?”

You look up to meet the eye of Crabapple. She snickers.

“You wouldn’t last five minutes in Hotland. That place is _crawling_ with puzzles. You wouldn’t get two steps in before you got stuck!”

“I’ll have you know that I’m _great_ at puzzles! I’ve been solving them all day!”

“Is that what he calls it?”

A fresh wave of blood rises to your cheeks, but your response is cut off by an exclamation from Scarflet.

“You wouldn’t!! Now there’s a _psycho_ if I ever saw one!”

“But you admit she’s fine as hell?”

“Well, sure! She’s got the looks, but I wouldn’t touch her _or_ her spiders with a 30-foot pole!”

“Bah! You can’t appreciate a good-looking woman like I can!”

Crabapple’s gaze is drawn from you to her friends as their conversation grows steadily louder.

“Are you talking about Muffet again? I’m telling you, you don’t even have the money to _look_ at her! Stick to drunks at the bar.”

“Screw you!”

The words are harsh, but the ladies are all smiling and laughing as you carefully round the table and back away to the entrance.

“Thanks for coming, tell your friends about us,” the librarian mutters sarcastically. You smile at him and whisper a sincere ‘ _thank you’_ that he seems wholly unprepared to accept. You aren’t the least bit surprised when he huffs and turns away from you.

Leaving the library isn’t as bad as leaving Grillby’s because the temperature difference is slight, and you pause for a moment while you decide which way to go. To your left is a house, lit up with adorable skull-shaped lights and with a flag affixed to the roof bearing the Jolly Roger. You don’t even need to see the two mailboxes out front to know whose house that is. Instead, you turn back the way you came. You see the tree again in the distance, but there are an awful lot of monsters milling about... you hurry up a northern path towards the sound of machinery and children roughhousing.

The path open up into what you assume is the residential district of Snowdin. There are a lot of houses to your left, all of them neat little shacks with round windows. They give off an eskimo vibe to you, even though you know the roofs aren’t really round... it’s just the inches of snow layered on top of them that makes them look that way. They look weathered and worse for the wear, but few of the windows are cracked and warm firelight glows from inside. Chimney smoke vanishes above them in wisps, barely dark enough to see against the snow but bright against the black cavern ceiling.

You’d forgotten about that. It’s just so light out.

“Where does the light come from? I keep expecting to see a magical sun, but there isn’t one.”

“It’s more of a reflection system.” Flowey sounds a lot better than before, although he yawns before continuing. “Part of it is natural, thanks to the crystals. You’ll see what I mean once we get to Waterfall. The old royal scientist also set up a system of mirrors that redirects whatever sunlight we can get to other parts of the Underground. Where there isn’t enough, we use magic lights. I guess you could call those suns. They don’t really compare to the real thing, though...” He says the last part so quietly you almost don’t hear it.

Instead of pressing for details, you turn your attention to the silo to your right, where a large wolf is literally hurling blocks of ice into a river as fast as the silo... which is the source of the machinery sounds... can produce them.

“What’s with the ice?”

“It’s being sent to cool the Core. The Core is the power plant of the Underground... it generates all of the electricity we need.”

“Oh. That seems... kind of dangerous and unstable?”

“Yeah.” He shrugs his leaves. “But it works. It’s been running for years now, so if something bad were going to happen it would’ve happened already.”

“I guess...”

Unholy screeching erupts from somewhere on your left, where a small monster sits trapped in a ring of white bullets.

“DAAAD! He’s doing it AGAIN!”

The trapped monster girl is bouncing in agitation. Her brother, who is teal blue and wearing a small red hat, is cackling. His hat bobs with the motion. They look like rocks, but they move like gels... slime monsters, maybe? A larger slime with a visible mustache is slowly turning red and emitting fumes. You assume that’s the dad. Well, at least he’s spending time with the family! Even if he seems to be regretting it.

“Come on, Sis! It’s called Monsters and Humans, and you agreed to be the human!”

“I did not! I wanted to be the monster!”

“You’re too ugly to be the monster! You make a perfect human! You’re ugly and stinky and evil...”

“AM NOT! You’re the one who put a centipede in my bed!!”

“You put one in my hat!!”

“Did not!”

“Did too!”

“DID NOT!”

“DID TOO!”

“DID-“

“SHUDDAP, BOTH OF YOU!” He groans, color fading to a translucent blue to match his daughter. “I swear, the young get their energy straight from Hell itself...”

You hear someone pound three times on the door of the house behind them.

“HEY, KEEP IT DOWN OUT THERE! Your brats are interrupting the Mettaton Midday Special!”

“If I don’t get to watch it then you don’t get to enjoy it, either!”

“I HEARD THAT.”

The yelling quickly fades with distance as you continue north to another view of the river. You can still faintly hear the bickering, but the gurgling of the water is closer. It soothes you. You take a deep, relaxing breath.

...

“You know you’re going to have to face Papyrus...”

“I know. I’m not too worried.”

...

“He could kill you if he wanted to.”

“If he wanted to.”

...

“You can’t keep him waiting for much longer.”

...

“I know.”

He’s right. There’s nothing here that you haven’t seen before. You could explore the rest of the town, but how long could that take? Snowdin is a small place.

The slime family is gone when you return. There are no piles of dust as far as you can tell in the snow, which is a relief... only a fresh scuff mark on the nearest door. You wince as you pass. _That’s gonna take a lot of sanding to get out._

“W-we should head to the shop first. You’ve still got some gold left, right?”

You nod.

Now that you aren’t freezing, you have a chance to admire the tree that is indeed set up in the middle of town. It looks like an ordinary pine tree, but its needles have been stripped off, leaving most of the tree bare and scraggly. There’s a... _colorful_ assortment of decorations attached to its branches with black string. Most of it looks like trash to you. _Is... is that a used bandaid?!_ The tree topper looks like one from the surface, but it’s been turned over and rigged with wires to keep it upright. It sways precariously with the tree as someone rummages with the boxes underneath. The presents themselves look pretty normal, and the lights are bright and twinkling. You aren’t sure if the tree is meant to be a replica of a Christmas tree or a mockery of it.

There are monsters snooping around the presents, so you figure it’s safe to get a closer look. From here you can just barely make out the tag on one of the presents, which a small monster without arms is warily nudging with his foot. The box doesn’t budge, despite the series of puncture holes the monster’s talons are leaving in its wrapping. The tag reads _To: MK. From: Satan._

“Yo, back off! This one’s mine!” The little monster scowls at you, then gives you a once over. “Hey, isn’t that that sentry’s jacket? Sans, right? What are you, his bedmate?”

“W-what, no!! Why does everyone think that?!”

“I’m gonna take that as a yes. So tell me... are you a kid or aren’t you?”

“...Excuse me?”

“You heard me. It doesn’t work if you cover it up like that.”

“Kids wear striped shirts,” Flowey whispers. “He can’t see yours.”

“Oh. No, I’m an adult.” You look down at him. He’s wearing a black and red striped sweater, so you were correct when you assumed he was a child. You wonder if that’s what MK stands for... Monster Kid. _So this is the guy who wrote that book report... Yeah. I can see it._ He looks like another lizard, but with sharp ridges down that back of his head and neck. He’s also wearing the cutest little black boots, although you don’t think he’d appreciate the sentiment. They look too big for him. Come to think of it... his sweater doesn’t fit perfectly, either. The turtleneck looks uncomfortably tight. _Well, that makes sense, doesn’t it? He’s got no arms to hold it up!_ He’s got red eyes, but you’d be more surprised if he didn’t at this point.

“Huh. So I guess he’s an adult too. It’s hard to tell sometimes, he’s such a loser. What d’you see in him?”

“H-hey! Sans and I are...” You don’t actually know what you are. “...friends.”

“Right, ‘friends.’”

“Exactly!”

“Isn’t that his brother’s scarf? You fuckin’ both, or what?”

“Do you kiss your mother with that mouth?” You arch your brow at him. He rolls his eyes.

“What are you, my babysitter? Whatever. Adults like you are boring. Leave me alone.” He takes off across town, catching you off guard with his speed. His talons kick up small clumps of snow behind him as he runs. He doesn’t even fall! His balance is amazing! It’s...

Oh. Wait. Nevermind. He just tripped.

“You okay?” you call after him. You know you’re calling attention to yourself, but you’re concerned! The snow here is pretty compact from all the foot traffic, and he just dove face first into it!

“Fuck off!!” he yells as he scrambles to his feet and takes off again.

He’s fine.

You admire the tree as you walk around it, finding more and more items that pop out to you as you go. A candy wrapper here, a broken toy there... even a broken Christmas bulb has been carefully hooked to a branch by its surviving topper. Most of the presents are ordinary boxes, but you’re alarmed to find at least one that looks suspiciously chainsaw-shaped.

“You new here?”

The gruff voice makes you jump, but you don’t sense any danger from the bear monster who is currently rearranging the presents on this side of the tree. It looks like he’s trying to fit several more boxes underneath, but there’s little room.

“Uh... yeah. Why?”

“You act like you’ve never seen a Christmas tree before.” He nods at the tree above him without pausing his work. “Awful teens tormented a local monster by decorating its tree-like horns. Everybody thought it was hilarious, so we started doing it, too! Now it’s a tradition to put traps under a decorated tree. I guess it was a good thing those teens heckled that monster!”

“Traps?”

“Yeah. Apparently humans like to put presents under a tree like this, so we thought it would be hilarious if we used traps instead! If a monster survives the trap, they can have the present. Makes it more interesting.”

“O-oh... that’s... a unique local custom?”

“Isn’t it?” He continues carefully rearranging the boxes as you slowly step away from the tree.

“Heel, Sinner!” A bunny woman yanks on a leash, which appears to be attached... to another bunny monster, who is straining against the spiked collar at his neck and panting. _Yeesh._ She notices you watching. “Ain’t he a stinker? My Sinnamon is the cutest!” She laughs and gives the leash another tug.

You make eye contact with a third bunny who is leaning against the door of another house nearby. He tilts his head in a _come here_ gesture and you oblige.

“You see that lady over there?” he whispers, leaning towards you with just his head.

“Yeah?” you whisper back.

“Somethin’ about her disturbs me...”

“...Is it that she’s walking a kid on a leash?”

“Nah, that’s normal.”

_Oh._

“I just can’t put my finger on it...”

It occurs to you that this rabbit, tall as he is, is wearing a striped shirt... you guess he must be a teenager, or close to it. He’s got a studded leather jacket that clashes with the little lines of blue and pink and his jeans are baggy. The woman, in contrast, doesn’t appear to have any stripes on her... she’s wearing a red plaid miniskirt and a solid grey shirt. Finally, you spot the bow behind her ears. It’s blue and red and seems to be tied directly into her fur. It’s the only explanation you have as to how it remains in place. Another teenager? Maybe she’s a few years older. But _why_ is she walking her brother around on a _leash?_

“Ugh. Let me know if you spot anything, alright?”

“Sure thing.”

You stop at the save point by force of habit, enjoying the extra warmth before you head into the shop.

“Hello, traveler. What can I get you?” The shopkeeper is yet another rabbit, this time with a faded sunhat on her head. Holes have been cut in the top for her ears to poke through, and plastic flowers are pinned to a white ribbon. She’s wearing a white shirt and a short necklace that moves when she does, and stands behind a short counter. Behind her, the wall is lined with shelves above a second counter, where everything from books to candles to jars filled with colored liquids and the occasional small figure or insect are lined up for sale. A few mirrors and pictures are hung on the walls, along with a scroll bearing the insignia of the Ruins. It looks like some sort of official document... a deed perhaps, or a license.

A few items catch your eye.

The first is a pair of gloves. They’ve got skeletal patterns on the back, and are cute as hell! You’re sorely tempted to splurge for the sheer irony... but a price tag reading _50g_ hangs from them, at that is decidedly _not cute._

The next is a bandana with abs printed on it that brings a smile to your face. Alas, it costs the same high price.

Finally, you’re drawn to the food. A plate of cinnamon buns sits on the back counter beside an ice chest filled with familiar wrappers. A small sign above the chest reads _Bisicles: 15 per._

“How much are the cinnamon rolls?” you ask.

“25 per. You want one? They’re my own recipe.”

“Yeah, I’ll take one! And a bisicle too, please!”

“You’re total is 40g. Will that be all?”

“Um...” You gaze longingly at the gloves. Flowey squirms underneath your scarf.

“Get the bandana. It’ll boost your defense.”

“No, could I get the bandana, too?”

“I don’t know, _could_ you?” She grins. “That’ll be 90g, are you sure?”

_Woof._

“Yeah, I’m sure.” At least you remembered the payment this time! She sweeps your coins off of the table with ease and hands you your items.

“Enjoy! Stay safe!”

“Thanks! You too!”

_-90 gold._

_Total: 5 gold._

“She seems nice!”

“Yeah,” Flowey leans into your neck and yawns. “she’s one of the better ones. Shrewd businesswoman, though. Don’t ever try to haggle with her.”

“Nah, her prices seem fair.” As you walk you fiddle with the bandana, wondering if you should wear it as intended or tie it to your belt to match the faded ribbon. Neither really seems possible while you’re in town, so you tie it to one of your wrists, over Sans’ sleeve. It looks ridiculous. You love it.

“Hey. You said you were new, right?”

You look up. The speaker is a second bear monster, but where the other reminded you of a polar bear this one reminds you of a grizzly. You gulp.

“Yes...?”

“Damn. I was hoping to rope in more suckers... I mean voters.”

“Oh. What are you running for?”

“Mayor, if I can convince enough people to vote. This town doesn’t have one, on account of the high risk of assassination. I’ve been hoping to install one anyway. I can handle it.”

“If there isn’t a mayor, then who runs the town? The King?”

“HA! King Asgore’s too busy with the capital to worry about us all the way out here! Nah.” He shrugs. “If there’s ever a problem, a skeleton will tell a fish lady about it. Thaaaat’s politics.”

“...What.”

“Politics.”

You blink, and decide to just go with it.

He stays at his post, leaning against the wall of Grillby’s. It’s pretty strategic, since you guess that most of the townsfolk have to pass him at one point or another. You yourself are tempted to head back in to the warm bar, but you don’t have the gold for another burger. Maybe Papyrus will give you some burger money if you can convince him to spare you?

The thought fills you with d e t e r m i n a t i o n.

You’re tempted to stop and chat with a scowling demon and a monster that looks like some kind of giant purple rat, but another yawn changes your mind. Flowey is exhausted, and if you’re being totally honest with yourself, so are you. Your mind is awake, but you’ve been walking and dodging all day. Your body is sore and overdue for a long rest. If there’s any chance you can buy yourself some time to properly sleep tonight, then you’re going to have to do it while you can still walk straight. Besides... maybe they’ll be here when you come back?

You keep walking. Soon you’re close enough to the brothers’ mailbox to make out which one is which. One of them is bursting with letters, but judging by the few that you can see on the ground and bulging out of the box, all of them are junk mail and death threats. The other is clearly labelled “PAPYRUS” in familiar capital letters. You’re tempted to look inside.

You realize that that would be illegal. Also, the red flag is up, so it’s probably as empty as it looks. You decide against it.

Maybe once you’ve saved up some more gold you can buy some paper and make him a Christmas card! You bet it would make him happy to get some mail of his own!

As you think that, you find that you’ve already walked past a large shed, an igloo (haven’t you seen that before? By the inn?) and passed out of town. Everything around you begins to disappear in a thick fog bank. As the mists envelop you and the last of the trees vanish from sight, you concentrate on a mental image of Papyrus’ face to keep you going. _One foot in front of the other. Don’t be a hero._ Your going is slow as you feel out the ground in front of you with your shoe before taking a step, inching forward and praying that the air will clear up soon.

You can’t give up just because of a little fog. Not with your friends’ happiness at stake!

Imagining how excited Papyrus will be when he gets your card fills you with determination.

And hope.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I love the idea of it being Halloween instead of Christmas in Underfell, but that's been done before and I really wanted to make an Underfell Christmas tradition!  
> ...Alright, mostly I wanted to make that 'Satan' joke. :P  
> Feel free to yell at me for taking SO LONG to update!

**Author's Note:**

> I said I would, and here it is! Please let me know what you think, because comments and reviews keep me alive. That and caffeine. Ungodly amounts of caffeine. Let me know if you have suggestions. Beta readers also welcome!  
> I literally have no idea what I'm doing with this website so please bear with me, I am but a humble nerd. Technical difficulties and delays are almost inevitable.


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